Abomination
by aterriblebeautyisborn
Summary: Blood traitor, abomination, shame of their flesh... The tragedy of Sirius Black.
1. Chapter 1 The Noble House of Black

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**This story contains scenes and ideas from my other story, _Always_. This fanfic won't be nearly as long and it'll move a lot more quickly through the years since I'm choosing a few select moments. For the most part, the chapters will be shorter too since I want this to be less novelesque than _Always_. I was a little doubtful about starting this, but something about the character of Sirius Black made me want to write his story. Someone once asked me who I thought was the most tragic character in HP and, immediately, I thought of Severus Snape. But then that someone told me she thought it was Sirius and she explained why. I'm still leaning toward Snape, but I won't deny that there is something unbelievably tragic about the life of Sirius Black.**

**Chapter One- The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black**

**1969**

There was something oddly mesmerizing about it.

The tapestry may have faded, but the strands of gold still glittered. The embroidery should have dulled with the centuries old material, but it refused to wane. Instead, the rich gold threads stood out, haughty and unrelenting, as if daring time to age them. Time wouldn't succeed. The gold would always triumph, just as the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would.

He should have felt pride. But all nine-year-old Sirius Black could feel was resentment.

Sirius tilted his head back as far as he could to read the words that loomed far above, but he didn't have to. The words were always there, at the back of his mind, and if he ever forgot, his mother would be there to remind him. "Toujours pur."

"Always pure," eight-year-old Regulus recited from beside him like the dutiful Black he was.

"Shut up, Regulus."

Regulus sulked, but Sirius pretended not to notice. His pale gray eyes flickered to the very bottom of the tapestry. It was his name, but it wasn't him. He did not belong there. There were seven centuries of Blacks on that wall. He knew the history of each and every one. He knew their strengths, their victories. And at even at the age of nine, he knew that he was not one of them.

"Can we go outside now?" Regulus complained.

Sirius tore his eyes away from the tapestry, unable to keep his mouth from twisting in the slightest of frowns. He knew that he should have felt ashamed that he didn't belong there, but the tiniest part of him was glad. "Yeah," Sirius said, already feeling lighter now that the gold embroidery no longer taunted him. "We can try out Dad's old Nimbus."

"But Mum said we weren't allowed-"

"Mum won't know if we don't tell her," Sirius grinned.

Regulus looked worried for a moment, but he eventually grinned back. He may have required a little coaxing, a white lie or two, but Regulus always went along with Sirius's ideas in the end.

"I'm older so I'll go on it first," Sirius told Regulus as he sauntered out of the drawing room, his brother tagging along at his heels. "You can watch me and copy what I do."

"But you've never flown a real broomstick before," Regulus reminded him.

"Of course I have," Sirius lied.

"Really?" Regulus looked doubtful.

"Sort of."

Regulus opened his mouth to respond, but before any words could come around, his elbow collided into a vase that resided on a corridor side table. He and Sirius froze, wincing at the inevitable sound of glass shattering. Braving a look, Sirius was not surprised to see that the vase had smashed into thousands of shards.

Regulus peeked around Sirius's shoulder and shrank back at the sight. He swallowed audibly, looking sick to his stomach. "She's going to kill me, isn't she?"

From a distant room, a shriek could be heard, so shrill that Sirius was certain that if Regulus hadn't broken that vase, that scream would have. They exchanged wide-eyed looks. Easily repaired by magic or not, Black family heirlooms were precious to Walburga, and even the smallest scratch, a temporary one, would lead to a hideous rage.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?"

Sirius and Regulus cringed. Their instincts may have been screaming at them to run, but they had learned long ago that there was no use in hiding from _her_. Sooner or later, she would find them, and there would be hell to pay. Half a second later, Walburga Black materialized in the corridor, red-faced among her flurry of dark robes. Almost immediately, she spotted the broken glass, her nostrils flaring. There was a mad glint in her eyes as she drew herself up to her full height, towering high above them.

"Who is responsible for breaking that vase?"

Neither Sirius or Regulus dared to speak.

"That vase belonged to Phineas Nigellus Black," Walburga said haughtily. "Your great-great grandfather. The first and only Black Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The first and only with enough sense to forbid the attendance of Mudbloods."

"Yes, Mum," Sirius and Regulus chimed in together, all too familiar with their family history lectures. While Regulus was avidly listening, his head held high, brown eyes earnest, Sirius fidgeted, wondering when it would ever end. He only wished that he could forget who Phineas Nigellus Black was, but the portrait of that particular ancestor refused to let him. He seemed to harbor a certain grudge toward Sirius, ever since Sirius had been foolish enough to land himself in an argument with the painting, and constantly hurled sarcastic remarks his way. Sirius was only grateful that Phineas's portrait was noticeably absent that day.

"He was highly unappreciated then and evidently now. Which one of you was daft enough to defile a relic of Black history?"

Regulus gulped loudly. Walburga's punishments were fierce, even more so when it involved tarnishing the Black honor. Both brothers still bore the marks of many previous family heirloom accidents. Sirius looked at his ashen face and quickly interjected without thinking twice.

"It was me, Mum."

"I thought as much," Walburga sniffed. "Come with me."

"But-" Regulus began, but Sirius immediately shook his head, signaling him to quiet. He was the stronger of the two; he would be able to handle it better. Regulus hung his head, looking ashamed.

But even as Walburga continued to mutter curses beneath her breath, Sirius knew that he had done the only thing he could have done. Regulus was the youngest and it was Sirius's duty to protect him. Especially from the wrath of Walburga Black. They were brothers after all. Even in a family as twisted as the Blacks, that meant something.


	2. Chapter 2 Filth

**Thanks for the reviews! For those of you who read _Always_, I know I said I would update Ch 53 before updating this, but I stupidly deleted the draft when I was trying to clean out my documents. I'll rewrite it sometime this week, but I thought I might as well update this since it's ready. Sorry for the ridiculously long A/N, but whenever people have questions/concerns/comments, I tend to ramble. **

**JPLE- Thanks for the review! I plan to explore the origins of Sirius's feelings of alienation as the story continues. To me, that's one of his most intriguing qualities so one of my goals in writing this story is to explain that. I think this chapter goes into a little more detail about it, but it won't be something that I'll fully explain in one chapter, even if I thought I could. I hinted at it very slightly in the first chapter with Regulus being the dutiful son, but when he returns home from Hogwarts after his first year is when I'll really go into the subject. Right now, he's more of a Black than he thinks, and that will become obvious when he first meets James in Chapter Five (Or Six, depending if I keep a chapter or not.) A lot of this story is going to revolve around his struggle what he was taught to believe and what he discovers for himself. He won't be the Sirius Black we know for a while. **

**MermaidGirl34- Thanks for the review! And you're right about the foreshadowing. I like slipping in foreshadowing and allusions related to Harry's years since we all know them.**

**Crowfeather's Love- Thanks for the review! I know that I'll write about Sirius running away, but I'm not sure when I'll stop. I know I want to write about James's death and going to Azkaban because I think I consider that his lowest point (I'm not 100% because I haven't really thought about it yet.) I also really want to do the POA scene when he sees Lupin and Snape for the first time since Azkaban, so I might go all the way to his death. I might make a James fic when I'm further along with this story. I would love to write about him because he's just so different from everyone else I've written. But even if I don't write a James fanfic for a while, I know that I'll be addressing the background differences between him and Sirius in this story.**

**the reader- Thanks for the review! That's exactly what my friend made me see. Somehow, I never really thought about how tragic his life was, but really, he had a horrible life. After being raised by Walburga Black, he finally goes to Hogwarts, has a few happy years, and befriends the people that he'll assume will be his best friends for life. Then his brother joins the Death Eaters and dies, his best friend gets murdered because their other best friend betrays them, and he gets sent to Azkaban because of it. Then he has to be on the run for the rest of his life, or at least until his cousin kills him a few years later. I agree that Sirius is the more sympathetic character, but I still think Snape is the more tragic figure. He had one person that he loved, lost the one because of something he did, and had to live with his guilt. But then again, I'm sort of biased since I've been obsessed with writing _Always_ for so long.**

**Moonhead- Thanks for the review! I understand what you mean about Sirius. It's hard to like someone when he makes your favorite character miserable. I don't think it makes sense for Sirius to hate Severus that much for no reason at all, so I wanted to give him a reason, which will become pretty obvious in their fourth year. I'm not sure if you're talking about the note in _Always_ when I said that he and James came from different backgrounds, but to me, Sirius is capable of such strong hatred just because that's what he was raised to do. I know it doesn't excuse his actions, but I can see him struggling with that during school, especially when his best friend is James, who grew up with a loving family and whose biggest problem is most likely figuring out how to get Lily Evans to like him. About his character growth- this is sort of a similar answer to what I told JPLE so I won't repeat everything, but don't worry, you'll definitely see Sirius grow into a different person. The first chapter was somewhat of an introduction so I felt the need to mention it, but he'll struggle with that throughout the story. Like I said above, he won't be the Sirius Black we know for a while. **

**Chapter Two- Filth**

**1969**

"And then they killed him. After days of-"

"Why?" Regulus interrupted, his brown eyes as wide as saucers.

"Because he was a Mudblood," said Sirius impatiently, dropping the sinister voice he had been using. He was annoyed that Regulus was ruining what he was finding to be a perfectly good horror story. In his opinion, it was one of his best. "That's why you can still hear his screams at night."

"I thought Dad said that was the wind," Regulus said uncertainly, but paling all the same. He inched away from the window, hugging his knobbly knees to his chest. On an ordinary day, the high arched glass revealed an attractive view of the garden. That night, it showed only the jagged branches of ominously swaying trees and the shadows that danced in between.

"Of course he would say that," Sirius waved his hand with a dismissive air, purposely avoided looking at the window. His story was slightly more effective than he had anticipated it to be. "Do you really he would tell you that there was a dead Mudblood next door?"

"Master Sirius!" An annoyingly familiar voice croaked, causing Sirius and Regulus to jump in alarm. "You are not to be telling Master Regulus stories again."

Once his heartbeat returned to normal speed, Sirius stared at the house-elf in disgust. Kreacher seemed to have some sort of vendetta against him, ever since he had caught Sirius trying to get rid of the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. After that little incident, Sirius was convinced that the portrait and house-elf were plotting against him. "And you shouldn't be giving me orders."

"It's all right, Kreacher," Regulus said, looking at Sirius nervously.

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but before he could announce that it was not all right, a tall shadow cast over the three of them, silent and formidable. Sirius didn't have to turn around to know who it was; Kreacher had bowed so deeply, that his snout-like nose was brushing against the floor. Automatically, Sirius's lips pressed tightly together, not quite daring to meet Walburga's hawk-eyed stare.

"Kreacher is only following your command, Mistress," Kreacher rasped, still bowed. "Kreacher only lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Kreacher tells Master Sirius not to tell Master Regulus stories, but Master Sirius will not obey. He never obeys his mother's dearest wishes."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Walburga said smoothly. Her manner was perfectly controlled, but her eyes, pale as ice, were something else entirely. They held a dangerous gleam, warning anyone who dared peer into those glittering shards that she could snap at any moment. "Is that true, Sirius?"

Sirius, who had caught a brief glimpse of her cold eyes, quickly averted his gaze. His tongue tasted bitter. Of course it was true. Everything he did was somehow wrong. He was not Regulus. "Yes, Mum."

"Look at me when you talk, Sirius. You are a Black, not a common house-elf," Walburga instructed.

Sirius slowly raised his head.

"And what did you tell him?"

"That the house next door was haunted," Sirius's voice was barely audible. "By a Mudblood."

Before he knew it, she had struck him. It had been so quick that he hadn't even seen it coming, but it stung all the same. Regulus whimpered. From the corner of his eye, Sirius could see that Kreacher was practically gloating. "Do you think the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would _ever _tolerate a Mudblood living next door?"

There was the answer that he knew he should say; that he knew Regulus would say. But Sirius was not Regulus. "But we live in a Muggle neighborhood," he pointed out, curiosity winning over fear.

But when he saw Walburga's eyes bulge, he wished that fear had won.

"ENOUGH!" Walburga bellowed even though Sirius had stopped talking. She had finally snapped, spitting venom as she shook with fury. "This is not a Muggle neighborhood. This is a Black neighborhood. The Black family lives here. _We_ live here. For centuries, we have lived here. Not _them_. They are NOTHING but filth. They are filth. Filth does not live. Filth simply feeds off filth. Filth should never be spoken of. Do you understand?"

But Sirius did not understand. He knew that Muggles and Mudbloods and blood traitors were nothing more than filth, but he didn't understand why. Everyone around him told him so, but they had never offered a hint of an explanation. What made the Black family so superior? Did blood really make that much of a difference? He knew it had to, but he couldn't understand why something so little, something only from chance, could have such an enormous difference.

But his cheek still hurt and he knew that there would be a mark in the morning. Miraculously, Sirius managed to keep his thoughts to himself. Instead, he nodded his head. "Yes, Mum."

"Good."

Her voice had lowered, but it was still hard. She extended a hand and Sirius automatically flinched, but did not step back. He held his ground, knowing that being a coward would only enrage her further.

But instead of striking him again, Walburga simply brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. Her fingers were cold, reminding him of icicles. Even though he guessed that she was offering a motherly gesture, Sirius held his breath, not fully trusting her.

"Follow me," Walburga said suddenly, and Sirius and Regulus had no choice but to obey. They scrambled after her, a few steps behind, exchanging bewildered and somewhat fearful glances. But it didn't take long for Sirius to realize where Walburga was headed. He groaned to himself, hoping that another long lecture wouldn't be in store for him.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Sirius found himself glaring at the tapestry. The gold threads mocked him as they did every other day.

"Both of you are growing up," Walburga announced.

Sirius sneaked a glance at her, curious. Her usual lectures did not begin that way.

"Both of you will attend Hogwarts. You will be Sorted into Slytherin, marry a pure blood, and bring glory to the name of Black."

She was speaking to both of them, but her eyes, now glowing with pride, were on Regulus. This did not go unnoticed by Sirius, but it did not surprise him. It had always been that way. Biting his lip, he focused on the tapestry before him.

Sirius still didn't feel like a Black, not that he would ever confess that to Walburga. He could just imagine how well that conversation would end. It wasn't that he hadn't tried. He tried more times that he could count. His few accomplishments went unnoticed while his many failures were always noticed.

He acted before he thought. He interrupted when spoken to. He daydreamed and never listened. He asked questions rather than following instructions. He fidgeted instead of keeping still. He laughed when he was told to be serious. He lost his temper when he needed to keep it the most. He somehow muddied indoors when it wasn't even raining. He managed to break rules that he didn't even know existed. He could never stop confusing Cepheus Black with Cetus Black, much to Walburga's horror.

Sirius Orion Black was not the ideal Black.

The not so simple truth was, the names on the tapestry seemed like distant figures, larger than life, impossible to imitate. Compared to Regulus, Sirius had always felt like the failure, doomed for disappointment. Blacks weren't disappointments, which was precisely why he didn't belong there.

Sometimes, he was relieved about it. Being one of them seemed... like it took a lot of responsibility. Sirius didn't like responsibility. According to Walburga, he wasn't very responsible, so maybe that was why. Sirius couldn't understand what was so fascinating about their family history. He supposed some of the gorier events were interesting enough, but being outside in the real world seemed like so much more fun. He wanted to live in the moment, not dwell on the past.

Regulus always fretted over failing to meet the family's high expectations, and Sirius told himself that it was better that he was considered the lesser of the two brothers. He would rather accept being the disappointment instead of being constantly paranoid of it, as Regulus was. Living in the moment was better than fearing the next, wasn't it? It was nice, pretending that he didn't care. Especially on the days when he believed it. Yes, in some ways, Sirius was glad that he felt different.

But it was nothing compared to the bitterness.

It wasn't fair that Regulus was their parents' pride and joy, that whatever Sirius did paled in comparison. It wasn't fair that every Black had succeeded at _something_. It wasn't fair that Sirius had to try so hard at everything, and still only be reprimanded for his faults. Walburga was always comparing him to the other family members, who had most likely been perfect since birth, and it was always Sirius who was cast in a negative light. He never measured up and he loathed the worn out material on the wall for portraying that so obviously.

He wanted to be glad again, but he was not. Part of him may have been happy to be free of Regulus's worries, but the other part of him wanted to belong to that tapestry.

"I have faith in both of you," Walburga said finally.

Sirius almost believed her.


	3. Chapter 3 Bellatrix

**Thanks for the reviews! This chapter is a longer one, but I really wanted to capture the relationship between Sirius and Bellatrix before he was exposed to open-mindedness and blood equality. The Unbreakable Vow idea was obviously inspired by Fred, George, and Ron, but there seemed something so Bellatrix about it, so I wrote it in. I know that he hasn't been mentioned yet, but Orion will make an appearance in the next chapter, as well as a slightly darker side of Sirius. If I don't add an extra chapter last minute, James will be in Chapter Five. **

**MermaidGirl34- Thanks for the review! You'll definitely see Regulus develop into a darker, more independent figure. I'm not sure how much I'll write about his final years as an actual Death Eater in this fanfic, but I know older Regulus will have a significant role in _Always_. **

**IAmTheMessenger- Thanks for the review! And this will be connected to _Always_. I really wanted to show Sirius's perspective on certain events, such as his Boggart. I'm undecided on when it will end, but I'm 90% sure that it will be his death.**

**MoonHead- Thanks for the review! When I was writing, I actually wondered if I should make Sirius sound more childish. I did have another unfinished version, but it just didn't seem as...effective. I struggled with it for a little while and I decided that it seemed to make more sense for Sirius to sound mature for his age because I imagine that the Blacks had to grow up quickly. I can't really see Walburga being a coddling mother. And to be completely honest, my other version just seemed to be lacking. **

**hey- Thanks for the review! I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that Sirius is not immediately taken with James when they first meet. Given Sirius's history, it doesn't seem natural for him to become instant best friends with James, but the memory in The Prince's Tale showed them pretty friendly on the Hogwarts Express. When I was writing, I tried to keep that and his history in mind. I already wrote the draft of that chapter, and it was one of my favorites to write so far, so hopefully I pulled it off.**

**PureAwesomeness13- Thanks for the review! I actually wanted to do a really long _Always_ type story for all the Marauders, but _Always_ became a lot more work than I thought it would be. I honestly thought I would be finished by the end of summer, and now I doubt that I'll reach sixth year by Christmas. I really do like the idea of writing from each of the Marauders' perspective in shorter/quicker fanfics, like this one, so all I can say is hopefully!**

**Chapter Three- Bellatrix**

**1970**

When Sirius was four years old, it had been Bellatrix who had taken a handful of squashed spiders and gleefully dropped them down his shirt. It wasn't that Sirius was _scared_ of spiders; he just didn't particularly like to be near them. After that unpleasant incident, he liked to be near them even less.

When he was seven years old, it had been Bellatrix who had persuaded him to agree to an Unbreakable Vow. He hadn't understood what an Unbreakable Vow was, but it had sounded exciting enough. Just after Bellatrix had convinced Narcissa to be their Bonder, Andromeda had tattled. Bellatrix had been punished, and instead of blaming her sister, she was convinced that it was Sirius's fault. She had promptly snapped his toy broomstick in half.

When he was nine years old, it had been Bellatrix who had locked him in the broomshed during a Black family gathering. It had resulted in Sirius being trapped for over three hours before a fuming Walburga had found him. Normally, Sirius would have gladly chosen a broomshed over a family gathering, but the broomshed had been crawling with spiders. Even though Sirius had tried to explain that it wasn't his fault, Walburga had punished him anyway.

It seemed only natural that he should hate Bellatrix. But in a twisted way, he was grateful to her.

It was because of Bellatrix that he had managed to overcome his dislike of spiders long enough to grab a few to slip into her pumpkin juice. It was because of Bellatrix that he mastered the art of persuasion and had managed to use it against her on more than one occasion. It was because of Bellatrix that he learned precisely how to jiggle the broken lock on the broomshed door and had tricked her into entering before he had delightedly slammed the door shut.

Without Bellatrix, Sirius wouldn't have discovered the joy of mischief.

It wasn't that he _wanted _to be known as the Black family troublemaker. It was just easier. Especially with Regulus as a brother. Everything seemed to come naturally to the other Blacks, and Regulus was no exception. Sirius didn't know why he couldn't feel satisfied with just following Walburga's carefully laid out rules, but that was Regulus. That had always been Regulus. The obedient son, willing to learn and eager to please. He never asked questions. Walburga hated questions.

Sirius asked a lot of questions.

But before he could continue to lose himself in his thoughts, he realized that Walburga was glaring at him pointedly. Straightening up, Sirius wondered how long he had been staring into space for. His mind was always flittering with so many thoughts, and they were just so much more interesting than whatever he was supposed to be doing. Such as that very moment.

His parents were having one of their small but elaborate parties, pure bloods only, of course. They had been seated at the table for nearly half an hour, but Sirius couldn't remember one word that was uttered. He had been preoccupied ever since they had sat down, trying to decide whether it was feasible to steal Bellatrix's wand for a few minutes or not. In a year, he would have his very own, but he wasn't patient enough to wait. He wanted to cast his very first spell _now_.

Sirius stole another glimpse of Bellatrix. She was in her usual spot, across from him, unusually quiet, even though it was traditional for her to kick him senseless under the table. She had been doing so for years and he still had the scars to prove it. Sirius would never admit it to her, but in some ways, they were two of a kind. Both couldn't bear to sit still and simply abide by the rules, and they took it out on each other. It was a game to them.

But somehow, Bellatrix appeared to be every inch of the paragon that every Black was expected to be. She had grown up. Her eyes were half-shut from utter boredom, after all, Rodolphus Lestrange had been droning on for what resembled eternity. But still, she managed to retain that disdainful air that made it perfectly acceptable. Her luxurious dark curls were arranged without a flaw, framing her elegant, undoubtedly Black, features. Even though she must have wanted to strangle the elder Lestrange, she remained composed, chin haughtily raised. But even so, the corners of her full lips were tugged upward ever so slightly as if she was privately amused. It was as if being the ideal Black had come naturally to her all of a sudden. She made it look so effortless, and Sirius envied her for that.

Sirius wondered if that would be him someday. Part of him wanted to be the regal Black that she had grown to be, even though a smaller part of him resented her for leaving him behind. But If Bellatrix could change, surely he could. He would never say it aloud, but sometimes, he almost wished that he were a _Mudblood_. They didn't have anything to live up to. They weren't constantly haunted by impossibly high expectations. It was nothing like being a Black. But looking at Bellatrix, Sirius felt a small flame of hope. Perhaps it became easier once he grew up a bit. After all, she had been headstrong and reckless, just as he was, perhaps even more so.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Regulus ended up doing the same. He is one of the most gifted-"

Sirius wanted to roll his eyes, but did not. Pleased with his progress, however slight it was, he swallowed a sip of pumpkin juice. He was careful to keep his eyes alert in case Walburga cast an eagle eye on him. Feeling restless, he shifted his weight, his fingers twitching. Sirius searched the table for someone who was suffering just as much as he was, but all the faces were impassive, even the younger ones. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa resembled blond angels. Andromeda was staring at a distance, but all the same, impeccably poised. Rabastan Lestrange must have bored, he was only a few years older than Sirius, but somehow he was listening to his older brother speak with an avid expression. Of course, there was Regulus, perfect as always, looking like the proper little Black as he sat tall in his seat, still as a statute.

"Sirius, stop fidgeting," Walburg's voice was stern, pausing in the middle of her florid praise. "Rodolphus, please, go on-"

Sirius then realized that he was drumming his fork against his plate. Immediately, he set it down with a loud clatter, and was rewarded with a menacing glare. In his opinion, the repetitive noise was much more pleasant to listen to than Rodolphus. Sirius wished that Bellatrix would snap out of her stately Black mode and hex him already.

Maybe he really would be more like them someday. Maybe he would enjoy boasting about his relatives, if he could ever manage to remember who was who. Maybe he would be like Bellatrix and somehow become the ideal Black offspring overnight, dignified and dutiful. Maybe he would even enjoy it. It would be easier if he actually enjoyed it.

But when Sirius dropped his napkin and bent under the table to retrieve it, a movement caught his eye. His gaze trailed after the motion and he realized that it was Bellatrix's foot, rapidly tapping the floor. There was something almost violent in the movement, as if she was barely managing to restrain herself. It was as if she hadn't changed at all.

Curious to test out his theory, Sirius sat up. Meeting Bellatrix's eyes, he kicked her.

Something flashed in Bellatrix's eyes. The familiar glitter that he hadn't seen all day was restored, a glitter that told him nothing had changed. That and the fact that she had promptly kicked him back in the shin- hard. It was still a game.

His heart sunk. It never became easier.

After the meal had ended, Sirius trudged into the garden, his footsteps heavy and shin still throbbing. The other guests were still inside. That meant that Walburga would be distracted and Sirius wouldn't have to hear about what a disappointment he was for at least for a little while.

It was startling tranquil on the manicured grounds. The sky was the palest of pinks, streaked with glimmering gold. The only sound was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. It should have had a peaceful effect on him, but Sirius only felt more restless than ever. He suddenly had a strong desire to trample on the blossoming roses that grew so elegantly beside him, their thorns visible even in the fading daylight.

He was surrounded by perfection and he hated it.

Just as he reached a hand out to rip out a rose, or at least muss it up a bit, he realized that Bellatrix was there, perched on the ornately carved bench, looking just as majestic as she had an hour ago. But Sirius no longer felt resentment now that he knew that she still struggled, just as he did.

"My leg still hurts," Sirius informed her as he flopped down beside her. He was pleased to see that, close up, she was already looking more like her old self; the curls that had been so meticulously arranged were tumbling down, tousled and becoming even more so with each breeze.

Bellatrix rarely smiled a genuine smile, but when she did, it was hardly visible. In the shadows, Sirius could make out the corners of her lips turning up, just barely. "You deserved it."

"I only wanted to see if you were one of them now," Sirius said with as innocent of an expression as he could muster.

Bellatrix stiffened. "I am one of them. I'm a Black, and that comes before anything else."

"You know what I mean," Sirius rolled his eyes now that he was free from Walburga's scrutiny. "I thought you were boring now. Like Rodolphus."

In his earliest years, Sirius had constantly trailed after her, utterly fascinated by what he saw. Unlike the perfectly polished pure bloods that he saw so often, Bellatrix was wild. She didn't simply break the rules; she shattered them. Bellatrix never told him to straighten his clothes or even stop talking. She never scolded him nor did she ignore him. She got even. Instead of running away as far as he could at the sight of her like so many others, Sirius relished the challenge. He may have stopped following her around, but he had never stopped savoring his victories.

When he saw Bellatrix's jaw tighten, he knew that he had won that particular round. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, but fortunately for him, Bellatrix didn't seem to notice.

"I will _never_ be like Rodolphus," Bellatrix said harshly, her eyes flashing. "He's weak. He's stupid. He's unworthy."

"If you hate him so much, then why don't you curse him?" Sirius wanted to know, unabashed. Unlike Walburga's, her quick temper didn't frighten him. It was too much like his own.

"I have."

"He's still breathing," Sirius pointed out.

Bellatrix laughed, but it was cold and humorless. "It's my duty as a Black."

"To be with someone you hate?" Sirius frowned, more to himself than anything. Being a Black seemed more and more unfair each day. There were so many rules, so many obligations, but he had thought, or rather hoped, that they would grow on him when he was older. But there was Bellatrix, looking as if she wanted to slaughter the world. Sirius suddenly felt sorry for his cousin. He wouldn't want to marry Rodolphus either.

"To marry a pure blood," Bellatrix looked over at him. "You'll do the same someday."

Sirius made a face, alarmed at her words. He had heard the same ones from Walburga, several times, but they had seemed like the tapestry, impossibly far away. Somehow they felt more real coming from Bellatrix. He shook his head vehemently for emphasis. "I'm never getting married."

"You will because you are a Black," Bellatrix said shortly, and Sirius knew that her words were true. He didn't want them to be.

There was a silence.

Sirius kicked his legs, swinging them back and forth since they didn't quite reach the ground. He was tired of thinking about his future as a Black. He was tired of thinking about Black duties. He was tired of being a Black. "Bella?"

Bellatrix had plucked off a flower and had been absentmindedly mutilating it over the past few minutes. Her thin fingers, that had been viciously twisting the broken stem, stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice. "What is it?" Bellatrix snapped, looking annoyed that he was interrupting her thoughts. She finally looked down to see the massacred flower, and with a look of disgust, she brushed the remains off her lap.

"Can I hold your wand?"

"Only if you want me to break your arm."

Sirius was quiet again as he pondered this and Bellatrix went onto mangle another flower. He continued to swing his legs to and fro, wondering what his chances were if he snatched her wand and made a run for it. As he watched her shred a crumpled petal, he decided that they weren't very good.

"Bella?" Sirius asked again, unable to stay silent a second longer.

"_What_?"

"What about now?"

Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to murder him, but amazingly enough, she refrained. "Fine, I might as well teach you something useful. You're a Black after all, and you can't go to Hogwarts without knowing anything, or you'll embarrass us all."

Sirius didn't dare utter a word in fear that she would change her mind. She roughly shoved her wand into his hands and he examined the polished walnut eagerly, turning it over repeatedly. Something about it felt purely magical, even powerful. It was a feeling that Sirius did not dislike.

"Not like that," Bellatrix said impatiently, taking the wand and pressing into his right hand again just so. "You have to hold it like you mean it."

Sirius's eyes narrowed in concentration, a faint crease wrinkling his forehead as he drew himself up to his full height. "Now?"

"Better," Bellatrix admitted grudgingly. But then her dark eyes seemed to brighten. "Now for your very first jinx. You can practice on Rodolphus…"

Sirius grinned widely. Bellatrix may have been outspoken at times. She may have been prone to violent outbursts. She may have caused her share of mischief and more. But even so, he knew that she would be a Black worthy of the tapestry. With her as a teacher, maybe he would be one too.


	4. Chapter 4 The Letter

** Thanks for the review! Unless I add anything last minute, Hogwarts should be in the next chapter.**

**IAmTheMessenger- Thanks for the review! Canon wise, it's actually not clear how old she is. JKR made her birth year 1951, but if that's true, then she wouldn't have been at Hogwarts when Sirius was, and he specifically mentioned that Bellatrix was part of a gang of Death Eaters when he was at school. I chose to go with that, so she's about six years older in my version.**

**the reader- Thanks for the review! And you're absolutely right, at least that's what I tried/am trying to portray.**

**Chapter Four- The Letter**

**1971**

Blacks didn't squeal with excitement when letters were delivered. Nor did they eagerly tear open the envelopes, spraying bits of parchment everywhere.

But Sirius did.

"Honestly, Sirius," Walburga looked at him reprovingly. "You're behaving like a common wizard." She and her husband had been sitting at the kitchen table with Regulus in between them. Sirius supposed that it had been silent with the exception of Orion rattling the _Daily Prophet_ and Regulus crunching on toast. Until he had hurtled in, a whirlwind of noisy energy.

"It's his first letter, Walburga. Let the boy enjoy the moment," Orion said, setting down his newspaper to look at Sirius. His behavior was unusual; Walburga was the head of the household and Orion rarely questioned her. The little remark was enough for Sirius to pause, but only briefly.

"Dear Mr. Black," Sirius read aloud, his heart pounding with excitement as his eyes hungrily drank in the emerald ink. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-"

Walburga snorted. "As if they would dare refuse a Black."

"Can we get my wand tomorrow?" Sirius asked eagerly, too anxious to be bothered by her interruption. Bellatrix had taught him a few hexes and he was quite keen on testing them out. He had already promised to make Rodolphus Lestrange his first target.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Walburga, immediately dashing his hopes. "You'll be blowing the house up before we know it."

"I won't," Sirius protested more loudly than he meant to. He quickly bit his tongue. He had learned long ago that raising his voice never ended in his favor. Even so, that rarely stopped him. It was just one of the many things that he could not help.

"It's his first wand, Walburga. I'll take him to Diagon Alley tomorrow," Orion said, hastily continuing when Walburga's nostrils began to flare. "You can put it up until September."

Walburga looked as if she wanted to argue, but merely huffed. "I'll consider it."

Sirius didn't see much of his father. When Orion wasn't working, he was reading or writing or doing something that isolated him from the world. Tall and dark-haired, he was a man of few words. Sometimes he rebuked Sirius for talking too much, but his cloudy gray eyes twinkled when they did so. Even though he was his father, Sirius didn't know him too well. Suddenly uncertain, Sirius looked at him gratefully. "Thanks, Dad."

"Can I go too?" Regulus wanted to know.

Walburga looked as if she were about to explode.

But in the end, Regulus managed to wriggle his way into an invitation.

The light feeling stayed with Sirius for the rest of the morning. He was finally going to Hogwarts. He would finally have his very own wand. Already, his mind was working overtime, forming plans for the school year. He would need Bellatrix to teach him a few more hexes to complete at least half of them. Sirius had a feeling that he would spend most of his time in detention, but he didn't mind. He didn't expect to have many friends. After being forced in the company of nearly every decent pure blood witch and wizard his age, Sirius had learned long ago that he was more the independent sort.

Either way, it didn't bother him. He knew that he wouldn't be alone. He had family there, and Sirius knew that blood was thicker than anything. He bounded throughout the house, unable to restrain his excitement.

It wasn't until he saw Regulus that the light feeling went away.

Regulus was slumped in the corner of the library, quietly reading a book. From the looks of it, it was one of Orion's old volumes that covered the history of pure blood ancestry. Almost immediately, Sirius felt a prickle of resentment. Regulus was always the perfect Black, even when no one was watching. He was actually reading too, and not roughly flipping through pages like Sirius did.

Sirius wasn't sure why the sight bothered him so much. He knew that it shouldn't have, but that didn't stop him from stomping all the way to the top floor. He didn't spare Regulus's bedroom a glance; he didn't need to see that hideously perfect neatness, and stalked into his own room instead.

He was angry. At Regulus of all people, Regulus who was his closest friend. It didn't make any sense, but Sirius didn't care. He was sick of trying when Regulus didn't have to try it at all. It wasn't _fair_. With that recurring thought, Sirius kicked the wall, satisfied to see a black mark blemish the silvery gray wallpaper. But that wasn't enough. He had a sudden desire for his room to reflect exactly what he felt.

Without a second thought, Sirius went for the bookcase that stood in the corner, brimming with dusty, untouched pages. With a sudden spark of fiery resolution, he began yanking out the books, as fast as he could, watching in grim satisfaction as they tumbled to the floor.

But that wasn't enough. He went for the curtains next. They were a rich velvet, reeking of pure Black finery. With a vicious twist, he tugged them down, and down they fell, a victorious tearing sound audible as they crumpled onto the floor, nothing but a puddle of sumptuous fabric.

For a minute, Sirius stood back to admire his handiwork, breathing heavily, whether it was from anger or exertion, he didn't have the faintest idea. The satisfied feeling only intensified as he took in the chaotic mess. It felt like him. It suited him.

"Sirius?"

Sirius spun around, his lips already parting to shout out, desperately wanting to echo some of the resentment that he had been feeling for so long. But when he saw Regulus in the doorway, he pressed his lips together, that almost frightening rage evaporating at the sight of his fearful looking brother.

"What did you do?" Regulus sounded awed and terrified all at once. He was still standing in the doorway, as if he didn't dare come in.

Sirius looked at the room again, impressed yet a little horrified at what he had done, not unlike Regulus. But instead of showing it, he shrugged. "Just moving some things around. Redecorating."

He was about to dismiss Regulus and slam the door for privacy, but something in his brother's expression stopped him. He had never seen him look so glum. Brotherly instincts won over bitterness. "Are you going to come in or just stand there?" Sirius asked impatiently.

Regulus scampered inside and Sirius kicked aside a few books so that he could sit down on the floor, knowing that since it was Regulus, it could be a while. Regulus stood there uncertainly, scanning the room for an empty spot, but when finding none, he too, shoved aside a pile of books and plunked down.

"What's wrong with you?" Sirius asked finally when Regulus said nothing.

"Hogwarts," was the plaintive reply.

"What's wrong with Hogwarts? Mum told everyone you're going to be Slytherin Head Boy. Never mind that you haven't even received your letter yet."

Sirius managed a little laugh at his own words, and to his horror, it sounded horribly forced. He knew that it wasn't Regulus's fault. His wasn't his fault that everything seemed to work out for him. That everyone seemed to praise him for the smallest of coincidences.

To his relief, Regulus didn't seem to notice. His chin was nearly drooping to his chest and he didn't bother to lift his eyes. "I just realized that you're going away," he said dully.

"You just realized that?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Let's hope that Mum doesn't mind a Hufflepuff."

Regulus looked up in alarm, his brown eyes finally meeting his older brother's gray ones. Sirius laughed again, but it was a genuine one. "Joking, Reg. Every Black has been in Slytherin. Not even I can mess up that tradition."

The corners of Regulus's lips lifted slightly. "It's going to be weird not having you around. I want to start this year too."

"Oh," Sirius said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We can always sneak you in."

"Mum would find out."

Sirius fell silent. He was right. Walburga always did.

"It's only one year," Sirius said finally. Truthfully, he hadn't given the matter much thought until Regulus had brought it up. He may have annoyed him more than occasionally, and he may have made him look bad the majority of the time, but Sirius would miss having Regulus around. All in all, he wasn't a terrible brother. "We'll both be in Slytherin and it'll be as if nothing changed. Except we won't have that annoying house elf around."

"I like Kreacher!"

"Of course you do," Sirius grimaced. His face suddenly lit up with inspiration as a new idea struck him. A new idea that was certain to take Regulus's mind off Hogwarts. "Want to go to the attic? Great- Uncle Lycoris's portrait told me that there were Mudblood skulls there."

Regulus's eyes were round.

Maybe Sirius wouldn't be the perfect son, but he could be the somewhat decent brother.


	5. Chapter 5 James

**Thanks for the reviews! This update was overdue, especially considering it was pretty much done when I finished the last one, but the beginning of the James and Sirius relationship is probably the hardest chapter that I ever had to write out of both my fanfics. I loved writing it, but it was just so challenging to get it just right, and honestly, I'm still a bit unsure of it. It didn't make sense for Sirius to immediately open up to James considering his family, but in The Prince's Tale, they seemed friendly enough, so it was difficult trying to find middle ground. I don't want him to dramatically change right away, so it'll take a little while for Sirius to fully trust James.**

**Also, this fanfic will go by a lot more quickly than _Always,_ and there might be only one or two chapters per year. Year One will have a few more because I really want to show how Hogwarts is a shock to Sirius, and have him struggle between what he has been taught and what he is learning.**

**MoonHead- Thanks for the review! Ugh, I know, I'm sort of annoyed with myself that I took out an earlier chapter that was supposed to have Orion in it, but I'm trying to make this a lot shorter than _Always_. You'll see more of him though, and his relationship with Sirius. I purposely made him a more minor character than Walburga because I need him to be distant for the future scenes I have planned, but I do wish I kept that chapter, or at least the small scene he had in Chapter 3 that I took out last minute because I wanted it to focus more on Bellatrix. **

**JPLE- Thanks for the review! I really should have made sure that it was a male name instead of choosing one at random from the Black tapestry. Next time I'll double check, but thanks for letting me know. I'll fix it once I update this. **

**the reader- Thanks for the review! That's exactly what I hope to portray. The relationship between Sirius and Regulus is always something that has interested me, as well as the relationship between Sirius and James. I'm looking forward to writing about both.**

**Chapter Five- James**

**1971**

It was the very day that Sirius had been waiting for. But instead of joining in the excitement that swamped Nine and Three-Quarters, he observed the scene, baffled at what he saw.

Sirius had seen half-bloods and Mudbloods before, but not often and at a distance. Walburga and Orion had always been careful to have their family associate with only the most elite of pure bloods. Even the handful times that he had been to Diagon Alley, his parents had kept a watchful eye over him and Regulus, haughtily pointing out filth that littered the cobbled streets, instructing them to never behave in such a way. Filth behaved commonly, squealing at the windows of the bustling shops, running about the streets, laughing carelessly as they didn't know where they stood in the world.

Sirius had tried to feel the revulsion that Walburga so clearly did, but when he had watched them then, curiosity overpowered any disgust. They may have been half-bloods and Mudbloods, but he had been _almost_ tempted to join them. Running around without a care in the world seemed like a lot more fun than scorning the rest of it. It seemed almost unthinkable.

But what he saw on the platform seemed even more unthinkable.

A small red-haired girl that couldn't have been any older than a first year had caught his eye. He watched her warily, his eyes narrowed. She was hugging her father tightly as a teary-eyed mother looked on. Never before had Sirius seen such reckless display of emotion. And it wasn't just them! Everywhere he turned, there were sobbing mothers and beaming fathers.

Feeling rather bewildered, Sirius returned his attention to his family, for once relieved that they were above the commotion. He didn't think he ever wanted to lay eyes on a weeping Walburga. Suddenly, the Black family seemed far more stable than any other there.

"Filth," Walburga sniffed. She, too, had been observing the scene. But unlike her son, her eyes only held pure contempt. "We should have sent him to Durmstrang."

Orion laid a stiff hand on her arm. It was a rare gesture, an unusually affectionate one. "He'll be fine, won't you, Sirius?"

Sirius raised his head to meet his father's eyes, feeling suddenly lighter at the twinkle he saw. Orion may not have been around often, but the fact that he had not only managed to show up at the platform, but also seemed to have confidence in him gave him hope. "I will," Sirius nodded solemnly.

"It may seem overwhelming with all of…this," Orion said gruffly, glancing around the platform with barely disguised disdain. "But once you're Sorted into Slytherin, you'll be surrounded by the right people. Centuries of Blacks have managed to attend Hogwarts without issue and I have no doubt that you'll do the same."

Sirius nodded again, more fervently than before, more than slightly glad that Orion seemed to understand at least somewhat. He wondered if Orion had struggled like he did, and suddenly, Sirius wished that he knew his father well enough to know stories of his childhood. Real stories, not the embellished tales that Walburga told of how he had not only risen to power in the Ministry, but had seized it because he was a Black and could.

"Don't coddle the boy, Orion," Walburga cut in impatiently, a sharp edge in her voice that no one could dare challenge. "You'll make him soft. Blacks are not weak." Before Orion could interject, she continued, her eyes flashing at Sirius. "Don't disappoint us, Sirius, and don't forget that Albus Dumbledore is the reason why Hogwarts has sunk so low. Do not let him poison your mind with his nonsense."

"I won't, Mum," Sirius said automatically, feeling more and more intrigued about this Albus Dumbledore that Walburga ranted about so frequently. Even quiet Orion was known to grumble loudly over Dumbledore while browsing through the morning paper. He wondered what having a mad wizard as headmaster would be like. He exchanged glances with Regulus and knew that his brother was contemplating the same.

"I've asked Narcissa to write of your progress," Walburga continued briskly. "She and the rest of your cousins will be keeping an eye on you to ensure that you act as a Black should. You are not to speak to any half-blood, let alone Mudblood. Curse them if you must, but I rather you ignore them altogether. Creatures of scum do not deserve our acknowledgment."

"Yes, Mum," Sirius said, and repeated the two words several more times as Walburga went on and on. When it was finally time to board, her jaw jutted out imperiously as she drew herself up to her full height, looking more formidable than ever.

"Remeber that you are a Black above everything else. The blood of the most respected witches and wizards of the wizarding world runs through your veins and those of tainted blood can hardly be expected to understand the meaning of that. Remember, _toujours pur_."

"I'll remember, Mum," Sirius said, squirming slightly. The other students were already beginning to board.

"Don't squirm," Walburga instructed.

Sirius took that as her goodbye. He looked at Orion, who gave him a firm nod, and then at Regulus.

"You'll write, right?" Regulus said, his voice quavering slightly.

"Of course I will," Sirius told him, unable to keep away a slight grin. "And if I don't, you heard Mum. Narcissa will."

Regulus crossed his arms tightly across his chest, unamused. His chin was wobbling, a worried expression fixed on his face. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something and closed it again.

He didn't have to say anything. Sirius knew what he wanted to say. "One year, Reg," Sirius reminded him.

Regulus nodded resolutely.

And that was it. There were no tears or near suffocating hugs. It was instructive, formal, and all very Black. But it was what Sirius knew. As he boarded the Hogwarts Express and eventually found a near empty compartment, Sirius didn't know what he felt. He couldn't understand why half-bloods and Mudbloods seemed so tied to their homes. There wasn't anything he would miss at Twelve Grimmauld Place.

Except for Regulus, Sirius had to acknowledge to himself. He would miss having Regulus tagging along. But he would be all right being solo for a while. He only hoped that Walburga wouldn't be too harsh on Regulus now that he wasn't there to take the brunt of her temper. But before he could dwell any longer on Regulus, Sirius was overcome by a disturbing feeling. He looked up.

There was something highly suspicious about the boy sitting across from him. The Hogwarts Express hadn't even lurched forward, and he was already smiling.

Normally, Sirius had no issue with smiling, as long as there was a decent reason for it, such as seeing Bellatrix lose her temper, or better yet, being the cause of it. Nearly all the people he knew were above the display of emotions, and for the most part, he tended to follow their example. It was an unspoken pure blood code. Smiling politely at strangers was unheard of. It was unnatural.

Sirius held his chin high, back straight, and eyes forward, just as years of being a Black had taught him. Even though he was doing his best to stare above the boy's head, he noticed that the stranger's hazel eyes were watching him, making no effort to mask his curiosity.

"Are you all right?" The boy asked finally. "You seem really angry."

Sirius looked at him strangely. Other than the absurdly wide grin, the boy seemed pleasant looking enough. His eyes were bright, framed by polished glasses that rested firmly on a long, rather aristocratic nose. What stood out most of all was his hair. It was black and stuck up all over the place. Walburga would have had a fit if she saw it, but Sirius sort of liked it. "I'm fine."

If the boy noticed his brusque tone, he ignored it. His eager voice lacked the poised elegance that Sirius was accustomed to as he plunged ahead, taking advantage of the fact that he had finally captured Sirius's attention. "Is this your first year here? It's mine. I'm James. James Potter."

Potter. In spite of himself, Sirius almost smiled. He had heard his parents curse the surname many times. The Potters were notorious blood traitors. Sirius would have paid to see Walburga's expression if she found out that he was sharing a compartment with a _Potter_. He couldn't wait to tell Regulus.

"I'm Sirius," Sirius said, purposely leaving out his last name.

"Seriously?" James asked, laughing. It was a genuine laugh, not the polite chuckle that Sirius had heard so often at pure blood gatherings. But when Sirius did not respond, James caught himself and stopped, as if he was worried that he had offended him. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with it. I like it."

"Thanks," Sirius said shortly. He was not at all offended. As if he could be offended by a Potter. Still, he couldn't help but eye James curiously. He had never spoken to a real blood traitor before. He had imagined them to be…filthier.

All of a sudden, the compartment door burst open. A small girl charged in, with masses of dark red curls flying behind her. Once the door had shut with a noisy thud, they fell forward, concealing her face as she ducked her head down, sobbing. Her face remained hidden as she tucked herself in the corner, quickly turning it so that the tip of her red nose was pressed against the glass of the window. She looked vaguely familiar and Sirius realized that she was the girl that he had watched on the platform.

Sirius exchanged uncomfortable looks with James, taken back by the unexpected feeling that he was on equal footing with the blood traitor. At least while the redhead was there. Neither of them had anticipated sharing a compartment with a girl, least of all a _sobbing _girl.

"What's your Quidditch team?" James asked much too cheerfully, pointedly looking away from the direction of the echoing sobs.

Sirius was immensely relieved that he had spoken. He didn't know how much more of the awkwardness he could take. "Puddlemere United!" he said, matching James's joviality and volume as best he could without grimacing.

James no longer looked panicked. Instead, his eyes widened and for a moment, he seemed to forget about the sniffling sounds from the corner. "Really? Almost everyone I met so far said the Tornados. The _Tornados_, can you believe that? What self-respecting wizard would choose the Tornados over Puddlemere? It's-"

But Sirius never found out what James was about to say. The compartment door slid open again, revealing a rather grimy looking boy, who immediately took the seat beside the girl without sparing a look their way. Sirius eyed the boy's shabby robes with great disdain, but what disgusted him the most was the boy's greasy hair. Sirius stared at it, half fascinated, half repulsed. Did he even wash it? Had he ever washed it? Either way, he was even worse than a blood traitor. He had to be a Mudblood.

"I don't want to talk to you," the girl said thickly.

"Why not?"

"Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore."

"So what?"

Sirius tuned out the conversation, already bored with the two newcomers and what was sure to be a long heartfelt moment. James may have been potentially mad with his constant grinning, but at least he wasn't dull. It wasn't until the greasy haired boy mentioned Slytherin that his interest returned. Evidently he wasn't a Mudblood after all.

But he wasn't a pure blood. Sirius was positive of that much.

"Slytherin?" James echoed incredulously. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

He grinned at Sirius again. Sirius still did not grin back.

"My whole family has been in Slytherin."

Sirius was expecting an apology or perhaps an embarrassed nod. Instead, he was amazed at the blood traitor's next words.

"Blimey," James said. "And I thought you seemed all right."

This time, Sirius couldn't help it. He grinned. He had never met anyone like James before. Blood traitor or not, Sirius could not deny that he was refreshing. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you got the choice?"

James thrust an invisible sword into the air, puffing his chest out. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad!"

Gryffindor. It was all very predictable, considering that Walburga ranted on and on about blood traitors and their need for heroics. But even so, Sirius felt the smallest twinge of disappointment. If the greasy haired boy was the type that he would be Sorted with, the type that Orion had proclaimed to be the right people, Slytherin House would be far from ideal.

The Slytherin hopeful snorted. Sirius was about to say something, but James spoke first, his hazel eyes flashing. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," said the boy rather snidely. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" Sirius interrupted coldly, unable to resist. James burst out laughing. The laughter took Sirius by surprise. No one ever laughed at him other than Regulus, and normally Regulus was too terrified of Walburga's reaction to whatever they were doing to laugh back. It was an odd change, but not a terrible one.

The redhead was furious. Sirius hadn't even noticed that she had stopped crying. Her eyes were still red rimmed, she stood up with as much dignity as she could muster, her cheeks flushed with anger. Before turning to the boy, she gave Sirius and James each looks of great dislike. "Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."

"Oooooo," Sirius and James said in unison, mimicking her haughty voice. It took a moment for Sirius to realize that they had spoken in the same time, as if they had a telepathic agreement to be immature. It startled him, but all the same, a small smile flickered on his lips.

"See ya, Snivellus!" James called as the door slammed shut with a loud bang. He looked back at Sirius and Sirius looked back. Immediately, both boys roared with laughter.

"Did you see her face?"

"Her face? Did you see his?"

"Slytherin! He's a Hufflepuff all the way."

For the rest of the journey, there wasn't a single awkward pause. For the next few hours, Sirius forgot to be a Black. A faint voice in the back of his mind reminded him of his parents' final words, but he ignored it. For once, there weren't rules or authoritative figures lurking around. Sirius hadn't realized quite how much he had longed to be away from them until he was free of both. He slumped down in his seat like any commoner would, scrambling after Chocolate Frogs and choking down Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans with James. It was freedom and it was bizarre, but he relished it.

With a sudden jolt, Sirius realized that he was having fun. It was childish and pointless fun, but for some odd reason, it felt natural, strangely natural considering that childish fun wasn't what the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black was renowned for.

But when the Hogwarts Express rolled to a stop, Sirius felt his smile begin to fade. He stiffened, an impassive expression smoothing his pure blood features as reality began to sink in once more. But James didn't seem to notice as he continued prattling on about Quidditch. Once he had a firm grip on his trunk, he glanced over his shoulder with the same grin that Sirius was already becoming accustomed to.

"See you in Gryffindor."

Sirius wanted to laugh, but he couldn't.

It was time to be a Black again.


	6. Chapter 6 The Black Gryffindor

**Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it took me so long to update, but the next one should be up a lot sooner. This chapter was actually even more difficult than the last one. I had a good idea of what I wanted to do, but it was challenging trying to write it down. I have a feeling that the next few chapters of the Marauders becoming the Marauders will be just as challenging because I don't want Sirius to suddenly change, but I want him to change just enough so that they can become the Marauders, or at least start to. I already know how they'll end up befriending each other, so hopefully, it turns out believable once I write it down.**

**I'm glad that so many people are intrigued, and not scared off, by Sirius and Bellatrix. I was unsure of how that would go over, so I'm just happy that it's going over well because I really wanted to explore the relationship between Sirius and Bellatrix since she was the one who killed him. There will be a Sirius/Bellatrix confrontation in the next chapter.**

**SPOILERS- I'm not sure if everyone will like what I did in this chapter, but judging from Sirius's family, it just seemed so unnatural having him and James, Remus, and Peter click and become instant best friends. I promise their fight won't last for long. Also, if you've been reading _Always_, you should know that I'm fond of putting allusions to Harry's years. The Mulciber/Sirius scene was obviously inspired by Harry/Malfoy.**

**MermaidGirl34- Thanks for the review! It's definitely weird, but also interesting because I like the challenge of writing the same scene but putting a different spin to it so it's not too similar. I'm guessing that it's going to be even more weird writing it from James's perspective because he's so drastically different from Snape and Sirius. **

**the reader- Thanks for the review! I definitely agree with what you said. I think that, because of James, Sirius was able to explore his free spirit side, and once he found it, he became even more adventurous than James. I'm looking forward to writing James and Sirius at their best, raising hell at Hogwarts.**

**almanera- Thanks for the review! I may be one of the few people, but I love both Snape and Sirius. I'm actually fond of all the Marauders except for Pettigrew because they remind me a bit of my own friends. One of the teachers, who was an avid Harry Potter fan, even used to call us the Marauders, so it's sort of impossible for me to hate them. Snape mostly won me over because his unrequited love was just so fascinating to me, and for some weird reason, I love tragedies. I agree that the characters relate and the problem is that they can't understand how, at least not yet. I actually never realized how similar some of these characters were until I began writing and analyzing them, but that just makes them all the more fascinating to write. About the lighter moments, there will be several with James and the others once they become the Marauders. Part of Sirius's tragedy that I really wanted to emphasize was that he eventually found happiness, only to lose it all over again, which in some ways, I think is even sadder than never finding it at all. I have a few ideas, but I didn't think of the motorbike, so thanks for inspiring me on a future chapter! I'm glad that you brought up Kreacher and Orion. I also noticed that Orion was hardly mentioned, which was why I wanted Walburga to be the villain. It didn't seem as realistic to me to make both of Sirius's parents completely horrible all the time. I definitely agree with Pettigrew and jealousy, so thanks for bringing that up.**

**almanera- This is answering your second review since my response to the first was so long. I have a few ideas about Narcissa, but I'm not completely sure how much time she'll get in this fanfic. I always thought she was understandable because all of her bad deeds can be connected to her family upbringing. For Narcissa, it always seemed like to me that her main focus was her family, as demonstrated by the Harry death scene. Lucius and the Blacks were associated with Voldemort and pure blood supremacy, so as you said, I don't think she ever really stood a chance. I don't really see her as a bad person. Instead, I see her as someone who is dedicated to her family and would do anything for them, which I actually find admirable. About Andromeda, she's actually my least favorite Black sister. She rebelled like Sirius did, but Sirius did it better, and he is just a much more interesting character. Andromeda always felt sort of boring to me, a lackluster version of Sirius, but I'll try to add something new to her character since she will eventually become a more significant part of Sirius's life, because as he said, she was his favorite cousin. I can see a motherly side because of Tonks, and perhaps a romantic side because she did marry a Muggle-born after all. I'm going to have to reread her scene in DH and see what I can come up with. About Sirius and Bellatrix, I'm definitely planning on having future interactions. I read a fanfic a while ago about Sirius seeing Bellatrix in Azkaban, mocking each other just as you said, and that immediately made me want to write one of my own. It's safe to say there will be at least one chapter, if not more, about Sirius and Bellatrix in Azkaban. **

**Chapter Six- The Black Gryffindor**

**1971**

Sirius was used to splendor, but Hogwarts held another sort of splendor altogether. It wasn't the cold finery that he had grown up with. It was warm. Still, he regarded the scene much more casually than the other first years, his pale gray eyes roving over the rich tapestries and polished knights of armor with cool disinterest. All he wanted was a decent meal and a comfortable bed. Unlike the others, he wasn't anxiously awaiting his fate to be announced. His had already been decided.

"You're Sirius Black."

Sirius glanced at the first year, his bored expression never faltering. Judging by the way the stocky boy held himself, he was a pure blood. He looked a bit familiar; perhaps he had met him before. His family couldn't have been too prominent, or Walburga would have invited him to one of her many parties.

"I'm Blaine Mulciber. We were both in box seats at the World Cup a few years ago."

A Mulciber. Not as highly regarded as a Black or Malfoy or even a Lestrange, but again, who really was? From what Sirius had learned from his parents, the Mulcibers were a decent enough family. Not too impressive, but respectable enough to please Walburga.

Still, there was something in the boy's expression that Sirius instinctively did not like. He didn't know why, he should have been familiar with the arrogant smirk, the cruel features. But after being with James, the prospect of friendship was unwanted. He looked at Mulciber's extended hand, and then his face. "I don't remember," Sirius said coolly.

Mulciber's face fell. Walburga would have been furious or pleased; she liked reminding other pure bloods that Blacks stood the highest, but Sirius had a feeling that she would disapprove of him cutting off options so early in the game. He shrugged it off and returned to his bored state.

But when he finally saw what lay behind the massive oaken doors, Sirius's indifference transformed, becoming a faint shadow of the awe that the others expressed so freely. He had seen some spectacular sights, but nothing was quite as spectacular as the Great Hall. The walls were tall, so tall that they seemed to open up to the star spangled sky. Realistically, Sirius knew that the ceiling must have been enchanted, but that didn't keep his eyes from widening at the sight. Catching himself, he reined in his wonderment and observed the rest of the area that seem to hold a warm golden glow, most likely from the thousands of miniature white candles floating above. His eyes landed and did not move from one of the four tables. There it was. The Slytherin House.

He knew them already, at least the ones worth knowing. Even from a distance, the glimmer of Lucius Malfoy's prefect badge was noticeable. Narcissa and Andromeda were also plain in sight, as well as a rather annoyed looking Bellatrix, who, much to Sirius's amusement, was placed next to Rodolphus. There was an empty spot next to Rabastan, and Sirius supposed that would be his. It wasn't ideal, but being near his family would be an improvement over sitting next to the greasy-haired boy or some of the other first years.

"Aubrey, Betram."

Sirius's gaze drifted toward the austere witch in flowing robes of emerald green. McGonagall. Bellatrix had complained of her before, proclaiming the professor to be a Mudblood lover. Even Narcissa had warned him that she was a witch not to cross. Somehow, that made the idea all the more tempting.

Betram Aubrey turned out to be a rather gawky boy with a head that seemed far too large for his skinny body. The oversized spectacles did him no favor. Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, Sirius decided. He struck him as more of a Hufflepuff type, but the glasses did give him a sort of brainy look.

"RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw table burst into applause. Betram Aubrey shakily removed the Sorting Hat and gave a very visible sigh of relief before wobbling to the table.

Despite the many sweets he and James had devoured on the train, Sirius's stomach grumbled. He hoped that this wouldn't take much longer. He was losing patience.

"Avery, Owen."

A pure blood. Sirius appraised the pudgy boy, frowning slightly as Avery jammed the Sorting Hat on backwards.

"Could he be any thicker?"

Sirius hadn't noticed James slip by his side. He snickered, but didn't utter a word. Not with his family watching. Avery was the sort of person that Walburga deemed acceptable, that all of them deemed acceptable. Blood was worth more than brains after all, or so Sirius had thought. After seeing blood without brains for the first time, he couldn't be too sure. Eyes still on Avery, Sirius scowled in disgust.

"Black, Sirius."

Finally. Sirius didn't look back to see if James had any reaction to his last name. Instead, he strolled forward and seated himself on the seat that had miraculously not collapsed under Avery's weight. From a distance, he could see his cousins watching him, and if he was not mistaken, there was a glint of pride in Bellatrix's eyes that was immediately replaced by a menacing glare, as if warning him not to screw up.

Sirius merely gave the slightest of crooked grins in response. Before he could see Bellatrix's angry retaliation, the enormous brim of the Sorting Hat fell over his eyes, blocking her from view.

It wasn't Twilfit and Tattings, but it would do, Sirius thought to himself.

_How kind of you._

Sirius raised his eyebrows as the unexpected voice in his head. A hat with a sarcastic edge. Now that he could appreciate.

_A Black unlike the others. I wonder which of us is more surprised._

Just get on with it, Sirius thought in annoyance. They both knew that he would end up in Slytherin.

_Is that what you want?_

As if he had a choice. Sirius snorted.

_Don't be so cynical. You have Slytherin in you, there's no doubt about that. Ambition, plenty of it, cunning, oh yes… Your mother would be proud._

Sirius snorted again.

_You may be right about that. Hmm. Sharp mind…_

Ravenclaw. Sirius swore that he would tear that Hat to pieces if it Sorted him with that Betram Aubrey prat.

_Temper, temper. You're a Black, all right. For a moment, you had me wondering. Don't bother with the threats. You're no more a Ravenclaw than a Hufflepuff. _

Gryffindor then. Sirius nearly laughed aloud at the prospect, but it was humorless.

_It's not so absurd. You have courage. And quite a lot of it too._

The Sorting Hat was mad, Sirius decided, absolutely barmy. He was no James Potter. He wasn't a hero. He was a Black. He would always look out for himself, just as the other Blacks had. They were self-preservationists with ambition, which was why they had risen so high.

_Is that so? If you and your brother met Death and he allowed you to choose one of you to live, who would it be?_

Sirius was no longer laughing.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

For a moment, Sirius couldn't move. He was in shock. He couldn't be in Gryffindor, home of the self-sacrificing and oh so brave heroes. He was a _Black_. It was ridiculous. It was preposterous. It was insane.

Yet he was.

Walburga was going to kill him. No, _Bellatrix_ was going to kill him.

The Sorting Hat a sick sense of humor. Unbelievably twisted. If Sirius hadn't been quite so dazed, he would have admired it. Numbly, he took off the Hat and handed it to McGonagall, knowing that he wasn't imagining the rare look of astonishment in her eyes. Nor was he imagining the stunned silence that followed a Slytherin that had automatically begun to clap, only to suffer a swift slap from Bellatrix.

Even though it was delayed, the Gryffindor table began to applaud. He hadn't fully recovered, but Sirius sauntered over and took an empty seat, careful to reveal nothing except for dignity.

Because that was what Blacks did.

After Alice Clarke had been Sorted, Sirius managed to steal a glance at the Slytherin table. It seemed that he was the talk of the table; nearly all of them were shooting him looks of incredulity, tinged with pity and disdain. Andromeda looked the most sympathetic, but Sirius barely saw it. Narcissa was being comforted by Lucius, and Bellatrix… Sirius couldn't deny that it stung when he saw her shake her head.

She wouldn't even glare at him, let alone even look. It was as if he no longer existed. Before, it had been the two of them. Now, it was just him and him alone. In the middle of the cheering Great Hall, Sirius had never felt more lonely.

His thoughts were interrupted when the red-haired girl from the train slid into the seat next to him. Lily Evans, Sirius could barely remember McGonagall's voice even though it had been less a minute ago. He tried to force his lips to form a smile, but Lily promptly turned away from him. Whether she knew he was a Black, or she just remembered him from the train, Sirius couldn't tell.

"Potter, James."

Sirius didn't have to pay attention to know that James would be Sorted into Gryffindor. He was someone who reeked of Gryffindorism. Sirius, however, was not. The Sorting Hat was a lunatic. A bloody lunatic.

James was indeed Sorted into Gryffindor, and once he sat down at the table, he seemed set on ignoring Sirius, and Sirius was perfectly content to act correspondingly. Even so, as "Snape, Severus," was called, Sirius could barely suppress a snigger. He automatically glanced at James, who glanced back at the same time, an identical smirk in place.

Simultaneously, both boys looked away.

But when Severus Snape was placed into Slytherin, Sirius felt another surge of disbelief, combined with strong dislike. How was a _half-blood_ more of a Slytherin than him, and an unwashed half-blood at that? No one knew better than Sirius that he wasn't the ideal Black, but the implication that Snivelly was more of a Black than he was? That was just downright insulting.

When the Sorting Ceremony had ended, Sirius didn't join in the chatter, even though he was sorely tempted to put in a snide remark or two. But when Mudblood Mary Macdonald offered some nonsense about having never seen paintings that moved before, Sirius couldn't resist.

"Just don't make eye contact with them for too long or…you know," Sirius purposely let his voice trail off rather ominously.

"What?" Mary demanded, looking fearful.

"You die," Sirius said casually. "Why do you think we Blacks have some many skeletons lying around?"

Mary and a few other first years' eyes were wide. James was coughing, but Sirius was certain that it had begun as a laugh.

For the rest of the meal, he didn't speak to anyone and no one spoke to him, even though he caught more than a handful of wary stares. Even as the Gryffindor prefect led the first years up the stairs, he remained silent, even though his thoughts seemed to grow increasingly savage with each step.

It had to be a mistake. He, Sirius Black, did not belong among the scarlet and gold.

Yet, thinking back to Avery and Snivellus, Sirius didn't know if he belonged with them either.

"Mum was right," Sirius muttered to himself as he knelt down in front of his trunk. "I would have been better off at Durmstrang."

"You're observant for a Black," James's voice sounded from behind him.

"Watch what you say about those you're related to, blood traitor," Sirius sneered, standing up and whirling around to meet James's eyes. He couldn't believe that he had almost thought that James was all right. Far from it. His false sense of superiority was no better than the rest of the blood traitors that his parents had told him about.

James's hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius disliked admitting any relation as much as he did, but the expression on James's face made it worthwhile. "Dorea Black, nineteen twenty, married to Charlus Potter. Which would make us…first cousins, once removed?"

"You have got to be joking," James said, with a look of revulsion.

"I wish."

"You're related?" A chubby boy that Sirius vaguely remembered as Peter Pettigrew piped up in a squeaky voice. To his distaste, Peter had already stacked what appeared to be Muggle comic books beside his bed and was currently putting up posters of strange looking Muggles wearing tights and capes. Judging by that and the fact that Peter's watery eyes kept sneaking glances at the others for some sort of stamp of approval, he could only be a half-blood or Muggle-born. "That's cool."

"No, Peter, that's not cool," Sirius said, irritated by the interruption. He was irritated by everyone in his dormitory. He not only had to share with James, but also with Peter, who looked as if he had eaten two Hufflepuffs, and sickly Remus Lupin, who looked as if he had been forced to watch.

He would have been better off with Avery.

"Watch how you talk to Peter," James commanded, ignoring how Peter's eyes grew round with surprise. Evidently, no one had ever defended him before. James didn't seem to notice; his eyes had never left Sirius, and when he spoke, it was with startling intensity. "You're lying."

Sirius wanted to laugh. It was so typical, so expected, that it was funny. James to the rescue, defending the weak. He was _such _a Gryffindor. It was no wonder he didn't want to believe in a Black relation. "Now is that any way to treat your cousin once removed?" he taunted, knowing precisely which nerve to strike. After all, James may have been connected to the Blacks, but he was no Black. Blacks didn't have hearts, and James wore his on his sleeve as if it were a badge of honor.

Before he knew it, James's fist collided with his face. Sirius tasted blood, but that didn't stop him from lunging back.

"STOP!" Remus bellowed with surprising volume. "You'll both get detention!"

Both Sirius and James looked up to look at him incredulously, as if asking him if that really was a reason to stop, and promptly went back to throwing punches.

Sirius had never fought the Muggle way before, but he found himself surprisingly good at it, most likely from all the rage that seemed to swallow him up on more than one occasion. He landed a few well-aimed blows, but unfortunately, so did James. Sirius could already feel his right eye beginning to swell.

Remus or Peter must have ran for help because one second Sirius was about to smash James's glasses, the next, McGonagall's voice pierced the room with startling force. "ENOUGH!"

Sirius and James both froze, equally disheveled

"I've never had such behavior on the first day. Especially not from first years!" Even though McGonagall's voice remained cool, her eyes were blazing. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Each. You'll have detention every day for the rest of the week. If I hear another word, another sound, from either of you tonight, it will be for the rest of the year."

Sirius couldn't look up. He knew if he did, he would burst out laughing. Instead, he bit his lip, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. For some reason, he had an odd feeling that James was doing the same.

"Now go to bed. All of you."

When she was gone, Sirius lifted his eyes. Sure enough, it was obvious James was biting his lip to keep from laughing, even with his bloody nose. But when their eyes met, he sobered with a glare, just as Sirius did.

"You're both mad," Remus observed. "It's really a wonder why you two don't get along."

"Shut it, Remus," Sirius said icily, glancing at Potter as if daring him to comment. Amazingly, he did not. But when Sirius looked back at Remus, he felt a stab of guilt. He was used to Regulus shrugging off his cold words, but it seemed that Remus was actually affected by them; he immediately shut his mouth, his eyes falling to the ground. For a moment, Sirius wanted to apologize, but he couldn't.

He felt far enough from a Black already.


	7. Chapter 7 A Black Parting

**Thanks for the reviews! I am so, so sorry that it took so long to update, but I've been busy, and as I've said before, Always is my priority, and sadly, I'm not even halfway done with that fanfic. Anyway, the next update should be up sooner. I know Sirius may seem out of character in this chapter, but he's not the same Sirius we know in the HP books and won't be for a while, first year especially.**

**TheSecondMessenger- Thanks for the review! The werewolf/Animagus plots will be in this story and Hero, I just need to figure out how much of it, because I don't want it to become too repetitive and boring. James and Sirius are such different characters that it might be unique enough on its own, but if not, I'll most likely split up the plots, focus on one in each story, and briefly mention the other ones.**

**almanera- Thanks for the reviews! I've wondered about Andromeda and Bellatrix too. Judging from the way Bellatrix behaved with Narcissa, I think she was close to her sisters while growing up, and while Andromeda was a blood traitor, she was still her sister. But I do think, if it came down to it and Voldemort commanded that she die, Bellatrix would do it. As for Regulus, he has his own issues, and even though Sirius sees him as the perfect brother, Regulus envies/resents him in a similar way in this fanfic. While Regulus is the more disciplined of the two, I always felt like he would envy Sirius. Not just because he's the attractive older brother, but also because, in Regulus's perspective, Sirius finds it easier to break the rules and not live up to expectations. Since Regulus was a Death Eater before he went good, I always imagined that doing what he wants versus what everyone else wants was something he struggled with in his early years. I also believe that Potters were not as notorious as the Weasleys, and the more I write of Hero, the more you'll see a difference between the two families. I do agree that it is very possible that the Potters were just as respected as the Blacks before Voldemort began recruiting, but since I already started with the James and Sirius rivalry, I'm not going to change it. I always considered the Blacks one of the oldest, still existing pure blood families, and in this story, they will consider themselves superior because while the Potters are still old, they will be newer lineage/money when compared to the Blacks. I'm not sure how much of this will be in Abomination, but in Hero, a large part of James's story is realizing that his family, mainly his father, is not as perfect as he always imagined them to be, and another side of Dorea will be revealed during that. The Dorea and Charlus that were portrayed in the first chapter are basically an idealized version from nine year old James's perspective. About the tapestry, the more I think about it, the more unlikely it is Dorea and Charlus are the parents of James because I think James's parents would have been blasted off, considering they took him in and Alphard was blasted off for helping Sirius out. I am planning to have James and Sirius visit each others' houses and for interactions between parents, I absolutely love your idea of having a Walburga and Dorea confrontation. I think it would be a perfect opportunity for James to first see that he doesn't know his mother as well as he thinks he does. As for Alphard and Cygnus, both will be making appearances. I'm not quite sure how big Cygnus's role will be yet, but Alphard will be important, for the reasons you said. I'm sorry I took so long to update, but no, nothing has happened except for me just being extremely busy, and when I have the time, just lazy.**

**DIANA-FANofHOTNESS4ever- Thanks for the review! One of the main reasons why I think they originally accepted Peter was basically what you said. He followed them around and he practically worshipped them, and for early/extremely egotistic James and Sirius, especially James, I don't think they could have gotten enough of that. I also think it's because he had the luck of being Sorted into Gryffindor with them, and in this fanfic, it's only the four of them in their year, and they all share a dormitory, so they were sort of forced into a friendship. I like to think that he did something other than worship them, and in this fanfic, Peter will also have a few moments that will prove his friendship and show his Gryffindor side, so he won't always be the useless follower. I really want him to become a real friend, not just a tagalong, it makes the betrayal all the worse.**

**Chapter Seven- A Black Parting**

**1971**

Sirius's first morning at Hogwarts was not a pleasant one.

After all, he had been rudely awoken by James, who _swore _that setting the hangings of his four-poster bed on fire had been an accident, but Sirius knew better. Hadn't he been contemplating the same idea the night before? If only he had woken up ten minutes earlier. Then it would have been James who had jumped awake with an undignified shout of alarm.

And then of course, there was the annoying fact that everyone kept watching him. The Slytherin table was less obvious, but he managed to catch Rabastan Lestrange's disbelieving stare and more than a few of Andromeda's pitying glances. Somehow a handful of those was more irritating than over half the Gryffindor table outright gawking at him.

But that was fine with Sirius. More than fine. Why would he want their idiotic company to slow him down? He had never expected to meet anyone at Hogwarts that he had wanted to befriend.

Even though he hadn't expected his own family to turn their backs on him either.

But he didn't need them. Narcissa brushed her hair far too much and Andromeda read more than she spoke, which Sirius found bizarre. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he had to admit that it was rather lonely without Regulus around. But he didn't need Regulus to keep him busy. He had plans. Extremely important and confidential plans.

Sirius's eyes fell onto James's pumpkin juice. The smallest of smirks curved on his lips.

His smugness did not last for long. There was a panicked cry, followed by the uncomfortable sensation of liquid seeping into the arm of his robes. Sirius whipped his head around, and predictably, found himself glaring at the clumsy oaf, Peter Pettigrew.

"Watch it," Sirius snarled, causing Peter to blanch. It was then when he caught Peter's instinctive look towards James, and it suddenly all became clear.

James knew.

During the distraction, James must have switched his goblet back, Sirius realized with disgust as he dabbed a napkin on his sleeve. He may have been cleverer than Sirius had originally given him credit for, but the prat didn't even have the nerve to carry out his own dirty work by himself. He had somehow cajoled Peter into working with him. Peter! It was pathetic. Sirius would have at least gone for Remus.

Remus…

Sirius eyed the withered pages of the textbook that Remus was devouring as he nibbled contentedly on his toast and jam. The boy looked undoubtedly serene, lost in another world altogether as he turned to a fresh page, and something about the peaceful picture made Sirius feel restless, so restless that he had an urge to wreck it. He suddenly felt the inspiration of a brilliant new idea spark inside his mind, and a slow smile returned. There was no reason why he couldn't kill two owls with one bezoar.

As discreetly as he could, Sirius adjusted his wand under the table so that it was aimed toward the frayed hem of Remus's robes. Hoping that there would be bright blue flames, he whispered an incantation just below his breath. Sirius hadn't actually practiced the spell before, but Bellatrix had given him a good scare with it when they were younger.

That had been before she had learned Fiendfyre.

It didn't take long for a commotion to build up. There was a yelp of alarm as Remus's textbook fell to the table with a loud thump. In that second, all eyes were on him, and the second after when realization had sunk in, all hell broke loose. Squeals and shrieks rang out as first year Gryffindors fumbled about, pushing each other in efforts to leave the table.

"Fire!"

"Someone pour pumpkin juice. Quick!"

"What's the spell for water again? _Aginminty_?"

It was then that Sirius noticed that the hem of a flailing Remus's robes was indeed burning. He blinked, startled as he took in the orange flames of a regular, non-blue fire. That wasn't supposed to have happened. But James was ready to rescue Remus, just as Sirius had anticipated he would, and he shrugged to himself, figuring that the other Gryffindor had everything under control. After all, it didn't take much brains to seize the nearest drink and empty it onto poor Remus.

While everyone watched in awe as James gallantly approached the swirling flames, Sirius quickly switched his goblet of pumpkin juice with James's tampered one, already forgetting about his slight mishap. James may have thought he was oh so clever with using Pettigrew as a distraction, but he was no match for a Black. Just as a round of applause broke out, Sirius gleefully slipped back into his seat.

"I don't know what happened," Remus was saying to a puffed up James, looking completely bewildered, his face still ashen. "All of a sudden, I was on fire."

"Accidental magic. My dad is an Auror, so I know how to counter a loads of spells," James said wisely. "Aurors catch dark wizards."

He added the last bit for the Muggle-borns, obviously not wanting even a portion of his audience to be in the dark of his father's accomplishments. Nearly everyone at the table seemed very impressed by this. Sirius snorted. If Aurors were under training to put out fires, it was no wonder that pure bloods were rallying around some Voldemort person to lead the way.

"Oi! Someone's got a Howler!" James said very suddenly, causing everyone to turn around, Sirius included. Almost instantly, Sirius felt foolish for doing so but then he realized it was not a trick. A glimmer of foreboding scarlet was in view, undeniably coming closer by the second.

Sirius was not the least bit surprised when it fell into his lap. Not pleased, but not surprised. For centuries, the Black way was to keep all family matters, excluding triumphs, private. But every other generation or so, there was the one Black who inherited the very worst of the Black temper, and all rules of dignity and composure tended to collapse in favor of tirades and the occasional violence.

There was no denying that Walburga was the generation's heiress. Howlers were only a fragment of the blackened territory.

Sirius didn't care much for Howlers. They were slightly too loud for his taste, but he had to admit the reactions were frequently worth it. This particular Howler troubled him far more than he would have cared to admit. He knew he had failed, and he didn't need Walburga's bellows to confirm it.

Even so, Sirius managed to open the Howler as if it was no different from an ordinary letter, pretending that he was not aware that if any eyes weren't on him before, they certainly were now.

"_SIRIUS ORION BLACK, HOW DARE YOU TARNISH THE NAME OF BLACK? SEVEN CENTURIES OF SLYTHERINS, SEVEN CENTURIES OF PRESTIGE, OF PURITY, AND YOU BECOME A GRYFFINDOR?"_

The Howler went raging on, and while his clenched knuckles whitened under the table, Sirius's face didn't change. It was no worse than he had anticipated, but that didn't keep his temper from flaring behind his composed mask that threatened to crack at any moment. It wasn't as if he had _wanted _to become a Gryffindor. He hadn't purposefully tried to become one. His family was too busy dwelling in their humiliation to take notice of his own suffering. He was the one who had to share a dormitory with three prats, wasn't he?

As the letter burned to a blackened crisp, crumbling into ashes, Sirius fought to remain as indifferent as can be, but that didn't keep his lips from tightening together in a grim line. When he noticed James was studying him, he merely smiled and lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice.

James did the same.

Sirius took a dignified sip, waiting for James to follow. Before he could continue to observe him, he found himself spitting out his mouthful and hastily reaching for Pettigrew's drink. Once he gulped down its contents, he looked up accusingly at James and that was when he realized that James was also spluttering. Sirius blinked. How the bloody Salazar had that happened?

The rest of the table erupted in laughter, but neither Sirius nor James heard them. The two pairs of eyes were determinedly staring each other down in an unspoken challenge.

The battle may have been a draw, but Sirius knew that he would win the war.

After his pumpkin juice plot had failed, Sirius had lost what little appetite he had. There was still time until Defense Against the Dark Arts began, and instead of lingering around with _those_ berks, Sirius decided to have a look around the castle. After all, he had to be familiar with his new territory if he was going to spend his next seven years terrorizing it.

He was in the midst of inspecting a statue that looked suspiciously tampered with when he noticed two hulking figures in a distance. As they grew unmistakably closer, Sirius realized with a sinking stomach that his unpleasant morning was about to take a turn for the worse.

But when he saw their faces, he brightened considerably, the corners of his lips turning up in a sneer as he readily drew out his wand. Sure, Crabbe and Goyle may have been fifth year Slytherins that were double, if not triple, his size, but they were also complete idiots. More than one pure blood gathering had proved that much. He could handle them.

"Look at the ickle Gryffindor," Crabbe said in a sickeningly sweet voice despite his wand being pointed menacingly at Sirius's chest. At least Sirius suspected it was Crabbe. With their bulky builds and rather stupid expressions, it was difficult to decipher between the two. "Does the ickle Gryffindor want to duel?"

"If it's taken you this long to figure out, I can't say the odds are in your favor," Sirius said bravely, trying to ignore the fact that Crabbe and Goyle were even more massive close up. Despite the knots in his stomach, he couldn't brush away the sudden spark excitement. After all, it wasn't every day that one had his very first duel.

Crabbe's face crumpled in confusion, but it was Goyle who registered the insult first. He began slashing his wand, but as he did so, a sudden jet of red light shot out, sending him flying into the wall and onto the floor with a sickening thud. He twitched and uttered a low groan. In unison, Sirius and Crabbe's heads turned to see who was responsible. Instantly, Crabbe paled. Sirius, however, grinned.

"Fancy seeing you here, Bella."

She had ignored him since the night before, refusing to acknowledge him when he had called out her name when the feast was over. But since she had just hexed a fellow Slytherin for him, Sirius had a feeling that his luck would change. He didn't care that the rest of the Gryffindors didn't speak to him out of fear, and the Slytherins, in disgust. With Bellatrix as his ally, things could go back to the way they were before.

"Lay a finger on a Black again and I will chop it off for you," Bellatrix said, still ignoring him. Even though Crabbe was at least twice her width, she made a rather impressive figure, so impressive that it caused the other Slytherin to shrink before her. While all students were required to wear standard black robes, the majority looking decidedly plain, somehow Bellatrix made hers look formidable as the tailored cloth swirled around her legs in fury. Her dark eyes, glittering dangerously, were fixed on the quavering Crabbe and motionless Goyle in a stare that could rival Medusa. "My cousin may be in Gryffindor, but even tainted Black blood is superior to those of other families. Especially yours, Goyle."

Crabbe nodded quickly, but it was evident that he was trembling. Even someone as dense as him knew better than to play with Bellatrix. Sirius felt a twinge of pride for his cousin.

"Good," Bellatrix's lips curled into a deadly smile. "Now, leave."

It may have taken a good half-minute for insults to sink in, but the two were much quicker when it came to following orders. Crabbe immediately turned away, waddling as fast as his thick legs would carry him. Goyle scrambled after him, limping as he did so, eager to not be left behind in Bellatrix's wrath.

"Run!" Bellatrix commanded.

They stumbled into a run.

"That was brilliant," Sirius said admiringly as he gazed after the two Slytherins. But when he glanced over his shoulder to see Bellatrix, he was granted only a view of her shining dark hair as she glided away. His forehead creased in confusion. "Bella, wait!"

She didn't slow down.

"BELLA," Sirius hurried after her, determined not to let her leave again. His shorter legs were moving twice as fast to catch up with her regal stride, and not for the first time, Sirius wished he would have his growth spurt already. "Just wait a minute."

Bellatrix whirled around so suddenly that Sirius nearly fell over. Her eyes were flashing again, but Sirius didn't cower. He wasn't about to back down, not when he had finally managed to capture her attention. "Wait for what, Sirius? For you to humiliate me once again?"

Sirius had become more than accustomed to the acid in her tone over the years, and ordinarily, he would have found himself carelessly flinging back an insult. But this was no ordinary occasion, and Sirius found himself in a rare moment of speechlessness.

"I just want to explain," Sirius said after a short pause, not knowing if that was what he really wanted. He only knew he wanted things to return to the way they were. He wouldn't have even minded her forcing spiders down his shirt again if it meant she would stop looking at him the way she was just then. "I didn't want this."

"A chance to make fools of all of us. Of course you did."

"I didn't think-"

"No, Sirius, you never think," Bellatrix said so harshly that Sirius took a step back. " And that's why you'll always be a disgrace."

Her words stung more than he would ever admit to himself. Sirius felt a hot flush of anger. There had been a time when she hadn't been the ideal Black either, but that hadn't kept him from idolizing her. "Do you really think I wanted this, Bella? No one will talk to me. Not even my family will talk to me."

"And whose fault is that?" Bellatrix shot back, undaunted. "Tell me, Sirius, after seven centuries of Blacks, how is it that _you_ managed to become a Gryffindor? How is it that _you_ managed to ruin everything, especially during the time that it matters most? I can't even look at you right now."

Sirius glared fiercely at her, his indignation remaining, but not as strong as his shame. For some reason, for some _stupid_ reason, he had thought if anyone could understand, it would have been Bellatrix, but all she had done was utter his thoughts aloud. His eyes darted around the hallway, looking everywhere but directly at her until he spoke, his voice suddenly quiet as his gaze locked with hers. "I just thought...that we were the same."

For a moment, an unfathomable emotion seemed to cross over Bellatrix's face, and for the first time Sirius had known her, she seemed at a loss for words.

"We are not anything alike, Sirius. You made that perfectly clear when you became a Gryffindor."

And with that, she spun on her heel.

"Bella!" Sirius started to follow her, his voice almost desperate. He knew that a Black, a real Black, was never desperate. He could almost hear Walburga reminding him that a Black was ruled by ambition, not emotion, but since arriving to Hogwarts, Sirius hadn't felt anything like a Black. "I just want things to go back to the way they were."

There were many who would claim that Bellatrix had been hard from birth. They were the same who would claim that she had no heart. The delusional Rodolphus had been mocked on one particular occasion, and cursed by Bellatrix, when he insisted that she had a sensitive side, she just preferred not to show it.

But Sirius knew the truth. Bellatrix may have been merciless, but she was also fiercely protective of her own. She may have been the girl who had locked him up in a broomshed, but she was also the cousin who had broken Rabastan Lestrange's nose with a Bludger after he had blamed a smashed broomstick on Sirius. The sister who had put a Balding Curse on a young Lucius Malfoy after he had spat a wad of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum in Narcissa's blond locks. The daughter who had snapped Thomas Nott's wand in half after he had called her mother a foul name.

She wasn't completely heartless.

Which was why Sirius knew that he hadn't imagined the way her features had softened for a half-second, only to harden into something inscrutable and oddly familiar. It was the same stony expression she wore when she had accepted her future of marrying a pure blood that she utterly despised. It was the same expression of enmity that someone wore when they were following an obligation because there was no other choice. "They can't. I don't even know what you are, but you aren't my family, and from this moment on, we are no more than strangers to one another."

"But-"

"We are _nothing_ to each other. Don't expect me to save you again."

Sirius didn't follow her when she turned to leave. He stood there in disbelief, not quite understanding what had just occurred. Bellatrix may have screamed death threats and curses at him over the years, but she had never spoken to him in such a way before. Somewhere along the way, the customary poison in her voice had dissipated, leaving only ice behind. It was distant, entirely solemn, with a note of finality.

It was over.

He couldn't understand why. They were family, they shared blood, and Bellatrix, Walburga, and nearly every Black, had always said blood was most important of all. Surely blood overruled Gryffindor status as well. But then why were they turning against him? He may have not been the most shining example of a Black, but he was still a Black, even if he didn't feel like one, and that had to count for something.

"I didn't ask you to save me!" Sirius shouted suddenly, furious at himself for his pitiful behavior, for his family and their coolness toward him, but for most of all, the Sorting Hat, for tearing his life apart. "I could've handled them by myself."

Dimly, he realized that she was already gone and more than a few passing students were nervously backing away, but he didn't care. They already thought he was evil for being a Black, defected because he was a Black in Gryffindor. Let them think he was mad too. Feeling another wave of fury wash over him, Sirius kicked the foot of a nearby suit of armor and instantly regretted it, the pain that shot up his leg only fueling the fire. He let out a nasty string of curses that caused a passing Ravenclaw first year to gasp aloud. Perhaps a real Black wouldn't have made such a public display, but that was just fine with Sirius, because in everyone else's eyes, including his own, he wasn't one.

Sirius didn't know how long he stood there, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths, but if he looked around the corner, he would have seen a first year boy with glasses and a mess of dark hair, who had been listening the entire time.


	8. Chapter 8 The Seventh Detention

**Thanks for the reviews! I know I'm slightly late, but since this is a longer chapter, I hope that makes up for it. For those of you who read Always, chapter 73 is running late too, but I'm guessing you already anticipated that.**

**HelloIt'sTrianna- Thanks for the review and the suggestion! I really like that idea, so I might just have to put in a Sorting Hat scene sometime later during first year.**

**almanera- Thanks for the review! I don't think I've ever considered the similarities between Harry and Sirius until you brought it up, but thinking of it now, I can see it. I'm not 100% on how much James will know about Sirius's family life. I don't think he'll ever know the entire story, but it's safe to say that he will know more than what Hermione and Ron knew about the Dursley's. There will be a Dorea and James scene about Sirius, and just about her family in general in Hero. For this story, there will be a Dorea and Sirius scene in his early years. I'm still uncertain about how to handle their initial meeting, on Dorea's part. I'm leaning towards wariness or some type of reaction that isn't immediately . There will eventually be some backstory on Dorea, which will explain why. Again, I don't know how much will be in here, but it will definitely be in Hero.**

**Chapter Eight- The Seventh Detention**

**1971**

It was the seventh detention.

According to McGonagall, it would be their last, but Sirius knew it wouldn't be for long. There was simply too many rules at Hogwarts and too little to do. Anyone sane would have done _something_ to require detention.

Evidently, he and James were the only sane ones. For the first six nights, they were the only ones in detention. They had polished trophies, mopped up bathroom floors, and alphabetized the library shelves. There always seemed to be someone, whether it was a cantankerous Filch or a Madam Pince holding an alarmingly heavy book in an arguably lethal way, threatening him and James of the consequences of talking to one another, but they didn't need to bother. He and James hadn't uttered a word to each other.

That didn't mean they had ignored each other completely. In fact, they had done quite the opposite. The entire purpose of detention was not to make silver shine or the floors gleam. It was to sabotage the opponent and make their remaining hours a complete and utter hell. It was a constant battle, and neither Gryffindor dared to lower his defenses for even a second.

There had been tampered polish that caused mold grow on the trophies, much to Filch's wrath. There had been a few special ingredients added to the bucket of water, so potent that the floors were _still_ slippery, so slippery that they had been taped off to the public ever since he, James, and Filch had underwent what Sirius privately thought of as the Great Slipping Disaster. There had been a hexed mop that had whacked anyone using it in the face, a jinxed dustpan that wouldn't hold still, and an arguably evil broom. There had even been a small fire in the library, followed by a slight flood.

James was good, Sirius was willing to admit, rather grudgingly. But he was better.

As Sirius stood there, waiting impatiently for Filch's instructions, he sneaked a peek at James, whose nose still bore a bandage from the mop incident. Sirius should have glared, but all he felt was a threat of a smile tug at his lips. He should have hated James, and maybe he did, but he couldn't deny that the past six nights had been entertaining, almost entertaining enough to forget the sting of Bellatrix's words. There was something refreshing in having an equal as an opponent, an equal who seemed to relish the challenge as much as he did.

But the urge to smile was brief, and once it had passed, Sirius gritted his teeth, resolving not to repeat that alarming reaction. James was the enemy and Sirius was a Black. He couldn't very well let a blood traitor beat him at his own game. And he wouldn't. He had plans for the lines they were to finish that night, and those plans consisted of a simple quill switch and a pot of Disappearing Ink.

"-Forbidden Forest."

Abruptly, Sirius stopped plotting. Slowly, he lifted his pale gray eyes to gawk at Filch in disbelief. Surely he had misheard the git, or rather, the git had made a mistake in his speech. No one had mentioned anything about the Forbidden Forest. He may not have been the wizarding world's greatest listener, but surely he would have remembered _something_ about the Forbidden Forest.

"You said we were going to do lines in the library," James protested, speaking Sirius's thoughts.

"And now I'm saying you're going to the Forbidden Forest," Filch growled, but there was no denying the grim smile that slowly curled on his thin, colorless lips. "Maybe you should have thought twice before trying to burn the library down. If it were up to me, you'd be whipped…thrown in the dungeons…starved…"

Sirius nearly laughed aloud. He had to admit James had a stroke of genius. He had tried to frame his enemy, and in the nick of time, the blood traitor had foiled his plan, somehow managing to frame Mrs. Norris with a matchbox at the same time. Filch had been far from convinced, screaming and hissing that his two charges were responsible, but nothing could be proven. As far as everyone else knew, Mrs. Norris had started the fire, and the two boys were heroes that saved the library. It wasn't their fault that they had accidentally almost drowned it.

With his fleeting mirth, the spark of alarm in Sirius's head was promptly extinguished, replaced by a new flicker of interest. The Forbidden Forest. Even its name sounded like an adventure. An adventure full of possibilities. Perhaps he could feed James to a werewolf. He stole another glance at James, anticipating to drink in his fear, but to his annoyance, a sly grin was creeping up on James's face. He must have felt the weight of Sirius's stare, and instead of pretending not to notice, his hazel eyes brazenly locked with the stormy gray, reflecting the challenge they found there.

The Forbidden Forest, Sirius decided, would be perfect.

An approaching shadow broke their eye contact, with both Sirius and James looking up at the hulking figure of Rubeus Hagrid. The gamekeeper was so enormous that Sirius had to tilt his head just to meet his crinkly black eyes. He wasn't quite like anyone that Sirius had ever met; half-giants didn't fall under Walburga's category of approval, and the part of him that remembered her many lectures on the lower breeds was wary. But wariness had never been a strong trait of Sirius's, always being forgotten in favor of curiosity, and when the gamekeeper gruffly advised Filch that his presence was no longer necessary, curiosity won out. Perhaps it was because his plain clothes, rough accent, and merry eyes, were all characteristics that Walburga would find abominable, but there was something about Hagrid that fascinated Sirius, something that he couldn't help liking.

It was a feeling that intensified on the way to the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid didn't order them around with Filch's mundane threats, nor was he feeble and easily walked over. He was firm, but genial, and so unused was Sirius to the sort of behavior from an elder that he began to think it was a façade, just waiting to crack.

But it never did.

"Yer a Black?" Hagrid glanced over his shoulder towards Sirius as he pushed aside the heavy branches in their path. The motion was so effortless; it was as if they were as fragile as matchsticks.

Sirius tensed at the question, but Hagrid seemed only curious, nothing more. "Yeah," he said finally.

"Didn't 'spect ter see yeh in red."

"Neither did I," said Sirius bitterly, regretting the words the moment he had uttered them. Even though anyone in their right mind would have known he hadn't been expecting it, the confession was too truthful for his liking.

"Yeh'll be alright," Hagrid replied easily, not at all fazed. "Yeh're not like some I've 'ad. Yeh know Bellatrix? I took 'er here once. She didn' like that. She was shoutin' all kinds of names an' I caught 'er tryin' to hex a unicorn. Said it was in 'er way."

It was the sort of story that would have horrified anyone, but to Sirius, it brought only a painful wistfulness and a glimmer of anger reserved for his cousin. The cousin who had abandoned him and thrown him out to the wolves. Or rather, the lions.

"I wouldn't know," Sirius said shortly, feeling James's eyes on him. "We're not close."

"'Spect yeh're better off," Hagrid clapped a stiffening Sirius's shoulder. Before Sirius could digest the well-meaning gesture that he was so unaccustomed to, Hagrid suddenly came to a stop, nearly causing James to collide into him. "Wands out? We'll split up 'ere. You two an' Fang will go that way," he motioned towards the west with his crossbow. "Yeh'll be safe with 'im. An' I'll 'ead over there. Send red sparks with yer wands if yeh need me."

Sirius looked down at the boarhound doubtfully, who was happily writhing about in a pile of twigs and leaves, hardly resembling worthy protection. James looked equally dubious, but when Sirius didn't protest, he didn't either. Seeing this, Sirius felt the need to voice his feigned nonchalance, hoping to unnerve James even further. "Sounds fine to me."

"Excellent," James added quickly with rapid nods of his head, not to be outdone.

Hagrid looked a little bemused by James's sudden burst of excitement, but wisely decided not to comment.

Once Hagrid had lumbered off in the opposite direction, an awkward silence unfolded, with the exception of the twigs snapping beneath Fang's weight. Hazel eyes and gray darted all around the forest, looking everywhere, but directly towards each other.

"Well then, I s'pose we better go," James said, speaking to Sirius for the first time.

Sirius was feeling less charitable. Not wanting to answer James, he merely shrugged.

"C'mon, Fang," James told the dog without much enthusiasm.

The boarhound kept rolling.

"I said c'mon Fang," ordered James with decidedly more effort.

Fang continued to ignore him.

In spite of himself, Sirius felt the ghost of his amused smile return. He thought he had hid it well, but he was mistaken, for James promptly called him out on it.

"Like you could do any better," James scoffed.

The truth was Sirius had always had a way with dogs. He was fond of dogs, ever since his uncle Alphard had picked up a stray that had been wandering around Knockturn Alley, and they seemed to sense it. Dogs were loyal, a wizard's best friend. They didn't care whether you were a failure or a success, and certainly not if you were a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin. Saying none of this, Sirius only arched an eyebrow and turned to the boarhound, his voice authoritative and clear. "Fang. Let's go."

Immediately, Fang turned over onto his stomach, and leapt onto his paws. He then trotted obediently towards Sirius, his tail wagging as he did so. Feeling very superior, Sirius gave the dog a pat on the head, shooting James a look that plainly said, _well_?

"Coincidence."

"Right."

Their task was to collect Potions ingredients for Slughorn. Hagrid had spent the first few minutes explaining where and what to look for, but Sirius hadn't especially paid much attention the gamekeeper. He had been much more interested in looking around for any signs of werewolves or other beasts. Judging from the way James kept sneaking peeks at him for guidance, he had a hunch that the other boy didn't know what he was doing either.

Sirius suddenly caught sight of a white flower. Feeling inspired, he plucked it from the ground, certain that it had to be one ingredient out of the millions that Hagrid had mentioned. Maybe completing detention would be achievable after all.

"What's that?" James asked.

Sirius hadn't expected to be asked. Caught off guard, he frantically tried to recall something Hagrid had said. "Apostle."

That didn't sound right. James's bewildered face only confirmed his doubt. Sirius cleared his throat. "I meant asphodel."

That sounded better. Sirius silently congratulated himself.

"Oh." James's face didn't clear. Instead, his forehead puckered, his eyes hurriedly scanning the ground. Swiftly, he tugged at a small plant, and on the third attempt, managed to remove a stem with a cluster of pale green leaves. "Sage."

"I knew that," Sirius said irritably, annoyed at James's self-assured manner, even though he was positive that the other boy didn't know the difference from sage and stinging nettles. Sirius hoped it was stinging nettle. Already bored with the assignment, he glanced around, searching for something to push James into. A swamp sounded fitting.

"Let's go over there," James suggested, motioning toward a nearby thicket.

Sirius looked at him suspiciously.

"It's not a trick or anything," James sounded impatient, running a hand through his hair.

Sirius still wasn't convinced. He didn't know what James could have done while he was right there, but he wasn't about to follow the Quidditch obsessed Gryffindor's lead into the Forbidden Forest. Trust was for the naïve and the desperate. Not Blacks. "After you."

His misgiving was evident, along with his disdain. An expression of pure exasperation crossed James's features, and without another thought, he stormed past Sirius, muttering under his breath. "You are so paranoid-"

He never finished his sentence. There was a terrible cracking sound, a muffled shout, and then silence. James had vanished.

Numbly, Sirius stared at the site of James's disappearance, a whimpering Fang at his side. It was dark, but the bars of starlight that poured in between the trees illuminated the area just enough to show that James was truly gone. Sirius didn't move. James was gone and he hadn't even have to push him into a pit of quicksand. He should have been overjoyed, but all he could do was stare at the scene and try to comprehend what had just occurred. Perhaps there was a Disappearing Curse…

"ARE YOU GOING TO HELP ME OR NOT?" A very familiar voice howled.

Sirius blinked at the unexpected sound. Fang let out a single bark of joy. Not understanding why he didn't seize the opportunity to run away and hope that they didn't find James for at least a week, Sirius cautiously neared James's disappearing spot, having no desire to be its next victim.

"Down here, you git!"

Sirius's eyes fell down and onto the gaping pit in the ground, partially obscured by broken branches and leaves. Feeling relieved that there was no need to worry about a Disappearing Curse, Sirius gingerly peeked over the edge. Even in the darkness, he could make out the untidy hairs on James's head.

And Sirius began to laugh. It wasn't a sound that he had uttered since Hogwarts, not really, and it was almost foreign to his ears. This was too perfect, even better than the various scenarios he had dreamed up in his mind, even the swamp one, and he didn't even have to lift a finger.

"Right. Go ahead and laugh. I get why someone from a family of Slytherins would find this funny."

Sirius was amused enough to allow that particular remark to slide. By then, he was doubled over, laughing even though his sides ached and his cheeks were beginning to hurt. If anyone else had been with them, he would have suggested throwing a Quaffle back and forth over the hole, just to see James try to grab it.

"You're a prat. You know that?" James said furiously.

That captured his attention. No one, least of all a _Potter_, called him a prat. The laughter died on Sirius's lips as he narrowed his eyes, kneeling down so that James would have a better view of his death stare. "You're the one who was thick enough to go running ahead in the Forbidden Forest."

"Only because you were too scared to!" James shot back.

Maybe he was more than a Gryffindor than he had thought. Just then, a coward was just as bad as a prat in Sirius's book, especially the way James said it. His pale cheeks flushed red with anger as he whipped his wand toward James's tousled head. "Take that back, _Potter_!"

"Why should I, _Black_?"

Sirius could see the tip of a wand aimed up at his direction. He spared a glance over his shoulder. Eyes returning to the pit, he used his spare hand to latch onto a sturdy looking stick. A small grin settled on his lips as he dipped it down below, waving it enticingly above James. "Or I won't help you up."

"You wouldn't."

"I suppose they'll find you eventually," Sirius mused. "In a week or so. If the werewolves don't find you first. There's supposed to be a full moon soon, right? Good luck with that."

James muttered something below his breath. Sirius caught his name, along with several nasty words, and he couldn't help but smirk. For a long while, it was quiet, all except for the branches brushing against each other in a sudden gust of wind, their leaves whispering as they quivered in the air. There was a howl in a distance, one that Sirius couldn't help but silently applaud for the timing.

"Fine," James spoke up grudgingly after the howl had ended. "I take it back."

"Say it," Sirius ordered, enjoying every second of James's resentment.

"I, James Charlus Potter," James cleared his throat and when he spoke again, his voice had taken a theatrical turn. "Take back what I said about Sirius something Black being scared."

Sirius rolled his eyes. From what he had see of James so far, the Gryffindor had a gift for turning anything and everything into a dramatic moment that revolved all around him. If given a match, James could make the flames swell up to a full spotlight, and within seconds, it would be a blazing inferno. Even, it now seemed, while he was in the face of defeat with only his enemy and a dog as an audience.

Lowering himself onto his stomach, Sirius let the stick carelessly swing down, not especially caring if he accidentally poked James in the eye. "Orion."

"What?"

"My middle name," Sirius said, feeling strange that he was freely revealing information about himself, even something as small as a middle name. "It's Orion."

"Your initials are S.O.B?" James snickered.

Sirius ignored him. "Can you reach it?"

"Lower it a little."

Sirius did so.

"I said a little."

"That is a little," Sirius snapped.

"Well, it's not enough," James snapped back. "You need a better stick."

"Maybe you're just short," Sirius's eyes were becoming used to the darkness. He silently measured the distance between the twig and James's head, wondering if it was feasible to bash him on the head. If he just stretched his arm out enough…

"My height happens to be the ideal height for a Seeker," James said with as much dignity as he could muster. "Roderick Plumpton was the same height as me."

Sirius scowled. Unless his arm grew a few inches or he found a better stick, he would have to wait for James to climb onto the surface before he could clobber him. "Oh yeah, was he a world renowned midget?"

"He only set the world record for catching the Snitch in three and a half seconds," James said importantly.

"I liked my version better," Sirius said dryly, lowering the stick as far as his arm would allow it. "Can you reach it now?"

James was sullen. "No."

With a dreary sigh, Sirius went flat onto his stomach and hung his arm over the edge, stick in hand. If Walburga could see him now, there was a good chance that she would murder him. Unless he was using it to poke the blood traitor to death. "Now?"

"Finally!" James cheered with audible relief. He grabbed the twig and just as Sirius began to yank him up, it snapped in half. There was a thump as James's feet hit the earth below.

Both boys groaned.

"Do you hear that?" James asked suddenly.

Sirius was hoping he hadn't. The howl that had sounded faraway enough to be on the other end of the forest didn't seem quite so far away now. "Er James?"

"Yeah?"

"I think this is a trap," Sirius said. "You know, for food."

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Hurry."

"Just shut up," Sirius said irritably. "And jump higher."

Surprisingly, James obeyed. He made a few more valiant attempts, but there was no denying it. The distance to Sirius's hand was simply too far.

Sirius was beginning to run out of ideas. He turned his head back again and spotted a root. Rising up to test it with a firm jerk, he was pleased to see it remained unyielding. Hooking his foot underneath, he lowered himself flat onto his stomach again, now able to sink down a good few inches lower, head and chest falling over the edge.

It was even darker now, and though the root was firm above his foot, there was still the disconcerting sensation of being dangerously close to death. As the howl sounded again, Sirius was beginning to wonder what he had found so entertaining just minutes before, and more than anything, he wished that they could just be done with the stupid pit.

There was a rustling sound in the bushes. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and a stab of fear chilled his blood. Instinctively, Sirius began to pull himself up, but as he did so, a sliver of moonlight revealed James's dirt streaked face, and the fear that flashed across his hazel eyes, visible even behind his grimy glasses.

Cursing himself, Sirius forced himself to ignore the movement in the trees. He stretched out his hand again. "Hurry up," he said urgently.

There was a look of incredulity on James's face when Sirius didn't bolt, a feeling that mirrored one Sirius was experiencing. The Forbidden Forest was legendary, one of the most dangerous places in all of Britain. The natural reaction for any wizard would have been to flee. Any Black would have fled without fearing loss of dignity for self-preservation was dignity.

But Sirius didn't have any dignity left. "Do you _want_ me to leave you here?" he yelled, feeling uncharacteristically panicked. "Grab my hand."

Instantly, James sprang into action and leapt. He may have looked skinny, but he certainly didn't feel like it. Sirius nearly dropped him the moment he had him.

"What do you weigh?" Sirius snarled in frustration and fear, struggling to haul James over. The falling face forward sensation was greater than ever and his arm was threatening to pull out of his socket. He didn't even want to think about the mysterious creature watching them, and Fang whimpering at his feet did little to help.

"So now you're going on about my weight?"

With all his strength, Sirius wrenched James's arms. It would have worked, if only the root hadn't snapped. Before he could realize what was happening, James fell back into the pit, Sirius tumbling in after him. Just as Sirius was about to shout out, he landed on the ground- hard.

He didn't hit dirt. Instead, he found a body underneath. A very alive, irritated one.

"I can't believe you're complaining about my weight when you weigh-" James grumbled.

"Shut up," Sirius hissed, not daring to move.

If James was about to argue, the sniffing sound above them silenced him, at least for a quarter of a second.

"It's not a werewolf, right?" James whispered hopefully as Sirius shifted over to what little room there was left. "It's not a full moon. So it's just a regular wolf."

Sirius sent him a dark look. "When we're eaten, remind me to tell you how relieved I am that it's just a regular wolf."

James shut up after that.

The sniffing sounds were more audible than ever. Sirius turned his wand over in his hands, searching his mind for anything useful to rescue him. James studied his wand.

"You're a Black. Can't you curse him or something?"

There was something in James's question that irked Sirius. It wasn't so much the words, those were actually not too far off, but it was the manner he spoke them in, the easy assumption that he lived and breathed dark magic.

"What sort of wizard do you think I am?" Sirius said hotly, especially not liking the implication behind the 'something'. "Just so you know, I'm not evil."

"I didn't say-" James faltered under Sirius's steely gaze, visibly uneasy as he distractedly ruffled his hair. "Well, don't you call Muggle-borns, you know?"

"Mudbloods," Sirius said coolly.

"That," James seemed to recover his usual spark, his indignation curing him of any speechlessness. "They're people too. You just assume they're beneath you and all that rubbish, just because their name isn't Malfoy or Lestrange."

"You assumed I was evil because my name is Black," Sirius pointed out evenly.

"I didn't _say_ you were evil," James shifted uncomfortably, clearing not liking where the conversation was headed. "It's just that…everyone knows about the Blacks."

"My family isn't evil either," Sirius said, suddenly feeling very defensive. Perhaps his family was extremely prideful of their lineage, and tended to favor the Dark Arts, but that didn't make them evil. It was a cruel world drenched in filth, as Walburga so fond of saying, the survival of the fittest. More knowledge, especially that of dark magic, preserved their place in society. With it, they were untouchable. But how could he expect someone like James, a blood traitor, to understand that? When Sirius spoke again, it was barely above his breath. "And even if they were, I'm not anything like them. Or I would be in Slytherin."

James averted his eyes. "Sorry."

It was so soft that Sirius couldn't be sure if he had heard him correctly. Even if he had imagined it, it didn't matter. The last thing Sirius wanted to do was accept James's apology and have a heartwarming conversation in the bottom of a pit somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. As he continued to turn over his wand, his eyes flashed towards it suddenly.

"Red sparks," Sirius muttered. "Didn't Hagrid say to use red sparks?"

"Won't that let the wolf know we're here?" James looked wary.

"Like he didn't hear you," Sirius scoffed, already raising his wand. "So red sparks?"

"Red sparks," James agreed rather doubtfully.

Not feeling any less dubious, Sirius sent up a spray of sparks. Glowing brightly against the blanket of black, they lit up the tiny patch of dark forest like a dazzling shower of red stars. He and James watched the display, neither daring to utter a word. Half-expecting a wolf or some other creature with dripping fangs to dive into the pit, Sirius clenched his wand, his palms growing damp with sweat.

But no creature, wolf or not, came plummeting down. Instead, there was a long whine and the sound of paws scurrying away.

"Was that Fang or the wolf?" Sirius asked, more to himself than James.

At his name, there was a bark.

"Oh, now you're here," James grumbled. "It would've been nice to have you around, oh say, a few seconds ago when there was a _wolf_ circling us."

There was a guttural growl.

"Never mind," James said quickly. "No harm done."

"Are you finished arguing with the boarhound now?" Sirius couldn't keep the annoyance from his voice. Now that it seemed like they were not about to be some Forbidden Forest creature's meal, he could feel a surge of his old anger return. He was tired of the Forbidden Forest, he was tired of being trapped in a pit, and most of all, he was tired of James.

"Aren't you touchy," James remarked, sounding bored by his rising temper.

"Well, this is your fault," Sirius couldn't resist saying.

James no longer looked quite so blasé. "I seem to remember you falling down too," he retorted.

"You're the one who got stuck in the first place. I, for some bloody reason, was trying to help you," Sirius exploded with an accusing look towards James. "If it weren't for you, I would be on my way back to Hogwarts right now!"

That was when it became clear. He wasn't angry with James. At least not as angry as he was with himself. If he had stuck to the Black way, he wouldn't even be in this situation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Bellatrix laughing at him.

James was quiet for a long time; so long that Sirius had stopped expecting an answer.

"Thanks."

Sirius only shrugged.

The silence that fell between them slowly wilted into awkwardness. Even though the pit was shrouded in shadows, both Gryffindors seemed determined to avoid looking at one another, each studying the dirt wall with feigned interest.

"Can I ask you something?" James asked suddenly.

Sirius made a noncommittal noise, already not liking the conversation was headed.

"_What _did you do to the water?"

"Oh," Sirius felt his anger give way to smugness. After all, James had managed to hit one of his favorite topics, and even if he wanted to be modest, he couldn't; he had done too well of a sabotage job on the floors. "That was my own invention. I mixed Zonko's Highly Hazardous Slippery Solution with a few drops of Infelix Infelicibus."

"What's that?" James asked curiously.

"Bottled bad luck," Sirius said with a touch of pride. Infelix was the twin brother of Felix, a concoction that was even more rare. He had nicked it from Orion's study. "It should've faded by now, but I think the Slippery Solution did something to it."

Sirius had predicted a snide comment about dark magic, even though Infelix didn't even scratch the surface of the Dark Arts. It was even sold in _Diagon Alley_, for Merlin's sake, at least it was every twenty years or so when the Apothecary was lucky enough to pick one up. But to his surprise, James looked only impressed.

"Wicked."

He shouldn't have been so startled. James may have been a defender of Mudbloods, but he was not snowy white and saint-like. Saints didn't have wicked minds, always scheming, always searching for more mischief like James was. A saint wouldn't have been nearly as interesting or nearly as fun.

It was quiet again. A question was hovering at Sirius's lips, the same question he had been longing to ask but struggling not to for the past week. The question that would drive him mad if he didn't learn the answer soon.

"The fire in the library…"

At the reminder of how he had successfully ruined Sirius's scheme, the corners of James's lips lifted slightly. "Yeah?"

"_How_ did you frame Mrs. Norris?" Sirius demanded, trying to ignore that he was now officially swapping pranks and schemes with a blood traitor. He might as well blast himself off the Black tapestry and change his name to Weasley.

James lit up, looking as if Christmas had come early, and promptly began a very long, elaborate explanation. At first, Sirius watched him, listening intently, but after the first few minutes, his mind drifted elsewhere, somewhere far more troubling.

James's earlier words had struck a nerve. Sirius had always been taught Mudbloods were beneath him, even though no one had really told him why. Day after day, he was reminded that blood traitors were no better, that they were fools who had thrown everything away.

James prattled on a lot, and perhaps he did smile too much, but he wasn't a fool. Their little war had proved that much. From what Walburga had said about blood traitors, Sirius had anticipated that it would been a massacre rather than a war. But James had fought back, battle after battle, and maybe once or twice, if Sirius was being honest with himself, he had also managed to outwit him on more than one occasion. The Mrs. Norris incident was a particularly painful yet undeniably brilliant example.

"What are yeh doing down there?"

Abruptly, James stopped talking. He and Sirius exchanged sighs of relief as the giant figure above craned his neck down to peer at them. "Hagrid!"

"I saw sparks an' Fang came runnin' to get me," Hagrid chuckled. "Never got a student in a centaur trap before."

When Sirius tilted his head back, he could see the gamekeeper reaching into his massive coat, and to his disbelief, watched as Hagrid withdrew a long piece of rope. A small mouse was clinging to it, and he impatiently brushed it away and dangled the rope below.

"What else do you have in there, Hagrid?" James asked, echoing Sirius's amazement.

"This an' that. Parchment, pens, couple o' rock cakes, keys, an owl… I s'pose there's more dormice in there somewhere," Hagrid didn't seem to find anything peculiar about this. "Grab on. Both of yeh."

Sirius and James didn't have to be asked twice. Eagerly scrambling up, they each took ahold of the seemingly endless rope. As if they were only dormice, Hagrid heaved them up, only grunting at the final tug.

James looked even filthier under the glittering starlight. Sirius suspected that he didn't look much better. As James rattled on about werewolves and wolves and near death experiences to Hagrid, Sirius shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, turning away.

The ice between James and him had thawed during the last few minutes in that darkened pit, but now that Sirius had his feet on the ground, both literally and metaphorically, he didn't have the vaguest idea to act. He may have been a Gryffindor, but he was still a Black, and Blacks and Potters weren't friends. That was just the way the wizarding world worked.

But Sirius didn't want to hate James.

James wasn't like anyone he had ever met before. He was idiotic at times and perhaps just a bit mental, but he was…happy. Like Sirius, he seemed to thrive on mischief, but unlike Sirius, he never seemed to face the consequences of it. He didn't seem to have a care in the world, other than living in the moment, and relishing it, and that was something Sirius longed for.

Just then, the two boys made eye contact. Both were wary as they looked at each other, as if they weren't quite sure what to make of each other or what had just happened. Hesitantly, James offered a tiny grin, and in spite of himself, Sirius grinned back.

"Want to try the broomstick hex on ol' Snivelly?" James hissed so that Hagrid couldn't hear.

Sirius didn't hesitate. "Definitely."

Sirius didn't want to worry anymore. He didn't want to memorize generation after generation of Blacks. He didn't want to sit quietly and stay out of mischief. He especially didn't want to be ashamed when he failed to do so. He didn't want to be the ideal Black, not when he had already tasted freedom. Maybe Bellatrix had already given in, but he wouldn't.

He wasn't just a Black. He was Sirius Orion Black, and for once, Sirius Orion Black wanted to live.

**A/N- And yes, I'm aware that the "survival of the fittest" theory came from a 'Muggle'. Just as a reader commented, I really do like my irony.**


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